One Year Later: The Second Year of a Relationship
by Jade4813
Summary: The promised sequel to Year of a Relationship. Clark had no idea what he was in for when he wondered what was in store for the new Mr. and Mrs. Kent. He's about to find out that life is full of more surprises than he'd ever suspected. Clois.
1. Superman or Family Man?

**Disclaimer:** As always, I don't own these characters. I just play with them for fun.

**A/N:** As promised, I bring you the sequel to _The Year of a Relationship_. The basic format is the same (there will be a total of 12 chapters, basic structure is the same, and I hope to preserve the general feel of the original story), but I've decided to title them like newspaper articles, just to mix things up a bit.

Enjoy!

**SUPERMAN OR FAMILY MAN?** _Article by Perry White_

"A-a date? I'm sorry, I'm afraid I can't…" Clark said with a forced smile as he tried to extricate himself from the overenthusiastic grasp of his most recent rescue.

"Oh, I know you're a very busy man, of course, but surely even you…eat." The girl flirtatious comment disregarded his protest as she ran her hand seductively down the length of his chest.

It was undignified for Superman to yelp, he had to remind himself severely as he made a desperate grab for her hand before it travelled too far south. Clark wondered how rude it would be for him to make a break for it and fly away from her as fast as humanly – or, rather, Kryptonianly – possible. With a smile that was probably a shade more nervous than the world was accustomed to seeing from the Man of Steel, he said, "I appreciate the offer, Miss, but I really can't stay."

She was not to be deterred, and he was having a hard time extricating himself from the situation. Of course, he had superhuman strength, but she was incredibly tenacious in her desire to hold on to him. Every time he managed to remove one hand from his person, the other had latched on to him somewhere else. He could have sworn that he was the one with superhuman speed, but she was definitely giving him a run for his money.

As he struggled with the young lady's grasping hands, he looked closely at her and realized she looked vaguely familiar. He could swear he'd seen her before. He frowned, trying to place her and then remembered where he'd seen her in the past. This was hardly her first superhero rescue. As a realization struck, Clark groaned inwardly and floated off the ground, slowly but surely making good his escape.

Though he couldn't be sure, he was willing to bet the girl who was so desperate to keep him in her company was one of what Lois jokingly (and perhaps not-so-affectionately) referred to as a "SuperGroupie" – people who were so enamored of Superman that they went out of their way to have an encounter with him. For the most part, SuperGroupies were harmless, if occasionally annoyingly persistent, but a certain percentage of them caused Clark no small amount of concern. He knew of at least three people who consistently – and intentionally – risked their lives with the hope that Superman would swoop in and save them.

When Clark had pointed out to his lovely wife of a little over a year that she could probably have qualified for SuperGroupie status in the past, she'd glowered, then smirked, and finally grinned as she reminded him that she'd never put her life in danger for the sole purpose of having the pleasure of his company. She'd just been doing her job, completely oblivious to the fact she had a superhero following her around every day, enacting the occasional (or, rather, frequent) rescue as the situation required. It was not, she reminded him smugly, her fault if he clearly couldn't get enough of her company.

At the thought of Lois, Clark renewed his efforts to escape the Clinger's clutches, eager to return to the woman who was waiting on him on the other side of town. "Have a good evening, Miss," he said firmly as he finally extricated himself and shot up into the sky.

It was probably undignified, a superhero of his stature so obviously fleeing from one of his ardent admirers, but Clark reassured himself firmly that desperate times called for desperate measures and he could easily have been there all night, trying to get away. Besides, if he never told anyone about his rather unseemly escape, there wouldn't be anyone to mock him for his actions.

Oh, who was he even kidding? Lois would ferret the truth out of him in no time flat, and after she finished laughing herself silly, she'd tease him mercilessly. That was just what Lois did; she considered it not only her right but something of her duty to keep his ego in check, as she put it.

Clark chuckled at the thought as he raced across town, but he hadn't gone far before something else caught his attention and he paused. He was passing over the Daily Planet and saw Perry White on the rooftop, staring up into the sky as if looking for something.

Perry's behavior probably wasn't that strange or remarkable, but it still caught Clark's attention – maybe because Perry White just wasn't usually the type of man to be found standing on rooftops staring up into the sky. As Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Planet, he was typically to be found having an ulcer in his office or terrorizing his reporters in the bullpen. Sure, he probably had a life outside of the newspaper, but Clark had yet to come across anyone with any actual proof of this fact.

Shooting one more longing look in the direction of the apartment he shared with his beautiful bride, Clark floated down to where his boss was standing. He wanted to return to Lois, but it wasn't the first time that week he'd seen the older man standing in that exact spot staring up at the sky, and his curiosity was finally getting the best of him. He had to know what Perry was looking for, and since it was entirely possible that the answer was Superman, it was probably a good idea for the man in question to find out why.

Besides, if he went home and told Lois he'd stumbled across a mystery but hadn't investigated further, there's no telling what she would say or do – probably start looking around for the new form of Kryptonite that had so altered her husband's personality. No, as much as he wanted to get home to her, he had to check this out first.

When he'd floated down almost to Perry's eye level, the Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Planet tilted his head back and smiled warmly. "Good evening, son. I was hoping you'd stop by."

"You were looking for me?" Clark asked, unable to completely hide his surprise. Of course, Perry and Superman had met before, but while the older man might sic his reporters on the superhero in the pursuit of an exclusive story, he rarely did the dirty work in that regard himself.

Instead of answering, Perry reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Passing it to his companion, he waited until Superman had unfolded it and glanced at the photo it was revealed to be before he spoke. "I was hoping to talk to you about that, son."

At first, Clark still couldn't see why Perry had been seeking him out. The photo didn't seem particularly remarkable – just one of the hundreds that were taken of him every week. In fact, it was so commonplace that it took Clark a few moments to place the occasion; the only thing notable about that particular photo was that the Superman costume he wore was ragged and torn, which was a fairly rare event.

"This was taken last week, right? After that building collapsed in Topeka." It was the only time recently that Clark could remember his suit getting ruined. "But I don't understand…" And then he saw it.

It took a bit of careful inspection, but the Superman costume had been torn in such a way that the wedding band that was normally secreted beneath it was revealed. Clark felt his stomach plummet as he looked up at his boss, his eyes filled with dread for what was to come. It might be easily overlooked by the casual observer, but, once noted, it was clearly a wedding band – a wedding band Superman shouldn't have had anyone on his person.

When he looked up at his boss in mute horror, Perry explained, "That was one of a series of photos that came across my desk late last week. It's a Daily Planet exclusive, as far as I know, and it hasn't been printed," a brief pause interjected the unspoken word 'yet', "but I wanted to ask you about it."

Clark swallowed heavily. "I don't…" he began, but he had no idea how to finish the sentence once it had begun.

Luckily, Perry took the problem out of his hands as he spoke, seemingly off-topic, "You know, journalism's a lot different than it was in my day. When I was your age – or, well, what I imagine your age to be – the profession was…well, we had certain ideas about what was newsworthy and what wasn't. Private lives, for example. The thought of reporting someone's private life…well, it was just unheard of; it never even occurred to us to print a story about it at all, let alone as front page news."

He paused and his expression grew both contemplative and a bit sad as he continued, "Things have changed since then, son. Now, it seems nothing's sacred anymore. Everything's news, even when it isn't newsworthy. That seems to be especially true of private lives. And while I may not _agree_ with the direction the profession's taken over the last thirty years, I don't really get to make those choices. Do you understand, son? I'm only an editor of this little paper, after all; I have people I report to, just like everyone else."

Clark bowed his head. He knew where this was going, of course. Everything about Superman was news; it was something Clark had come to terms with years before and the primary reason why he didn't wear his wedding band on his finger in the first place. Perry was just giving him a friendly warning before he splashed suppositions about Superman's private life across the front page of the _Daily Planet_. The only thing Clark could do about it now was to prepare himself – and his wife – for the aftermath.

"That ring you have on a chain around your neck in the photo, son…I can't help but notice that it looks like a wedding band. Now, if you tell me that's yours, I don't really have a choice. I have a duty to print the honest, unbiased news, without letting my judgment get clouded by any personal feelings I may have. I may not like what it means sometimes, but it is my job and I take my job very seriously."

"I understand, Mr. White," Superman replied sadly. He didn't like it, but he _did_ understand, which was why he'd tried to be so careful to hide even the suggestion of the superhero having a private life from the rest of the world. He couldn't even begin to imagine how he was going to tell Lois that life as they knew it was about to change, and he couldn't bear to think of how much danger his stupidity had just put her in.

He was still trying to process all the potential ramifications when Perry smiled. "Now…if, on the other hand, you were to tell me…say…that the ring belonged to your parents and it's a keepsake you brought with you from that other planet, well…that's not really news, is it? It's interesting, but it's not newsworthy, not even by the modern definition of the term."

Very slowly, Superman raised his head and met the expectant eyes of the Editor-in-Chief of the most widely read newspaper in the world. Was he misunderstanding the course of the conversation? Was Perry actually giving him a way out?

Of course, the problem was that he really couldn't take it. As Clark Kent, he did an awful lot of lying. Every time he disappeared to attend to his duties as Superman, he had to lie to the people closest to him about what he was doing. He justified his actions by telling himself it was for the greater good, and though that did little to appease his guilt, he had come to terms with the necessity of it long ago. Around the same time, however, Clark had realized the importance of never letting Superman walk that thin line.

From the day he'd made his abilities (and his superhero persona) public, he had been incredibly fortunate that the rest of the world accepted him. They looked up to him, respected him, and saw him as their savior. While the world's expectations could, at times, be a bit oppressive, he knew how easy it would be for the pendulum to swing the other way.

The world saw a man with almost god-like powers as a hero, and they admired him. But how easy would it be for the tide to turn? It wouldn't take much, he knew, for that admiration to turn to fear and that fear to morph into distrust.

The people of Earth accepted him because he did everything in his power to help them when they needed it. They trusted him because he'd never given them a reason not to.

Clark Kent occasionally had to lie to protect himself and the people he loved. Superman couldn't be afforded the same privilege. All it would take would be to be caught in one little white lie, an exaggeration of the truth, and the seeds of doubt would be planted in countless minds. It would take time, he knew, but that doubt would slowly grow; they'd listen to the words he said with a jaded and skeptical ear, and they'd look for hints of duplicity in everything he did. And so Superman could not, would not lie, not even to keep his identity a secret, because if he did so and was caught, he would put the people he loved in even more danger in the long run.

He couldn't lie, and he hated to tell the truth. As a superhero, Superman had to make difficult choices every day – choices that often meant the difference in life or death for hundreds of people, if not more. When it came to protecting his private life and the person he loved more than anyone else in the entire world, however, Superman didn't have the first idea what to do. Luckily, Perry seemed to understand his distress, because, once again, he offered an olive branch. With knowing eyes, he suggested, "Would you like to tell me something like that, son? That the ring you wear is a memento of your parents?"

After a slight pause, Superman nodded. "I'd _like_ to, yes sir." It wasn't a lie, but it didn't have to be. Clark knew that Perry was no fool; he was perfectly aware that the ring Superman wore didn't come from Krypton. At the same time, he also knew that Perry would never betray his knowledge to anyone. Superman's secret was still safe.

Perry smiled. "That's what I thought. I'll let you get back to your business now, but I appreciate you stopping to talk to me." As he reached out to take the photo out of Superman's hand, he paused and said rather gravely, "You know, it's almost too bad that it's not your ring, son. Alice…that's my wife…I have to admit that she worries about you. You may not remember her, but the two of you met once, a few years ago, and she said then that there was something about you that was rather sad…she said you just seemed lonely. This last week, though…well, it was just nice to think you weren't really alone."

As if embarrassed that he was even broaching a topic that could skirt around any subject of a personal nature, Perry cleared his throat, but it was clear that he wasn't backing down until he said everything he meant to say. Holding Superman's gaze with his own, he said, his voice rife with the undercurrents of a thousand bits of subtext, "I suppose it would have to be an amazing woman, though, wouldn't it, to be able to handle being married to a superhero."

Clark was silent for a moment as he pondered how to respond. Was Perry indicating that he was not only aware of Superman's private life but that he was well aware of the identity of the superhero's alter-ego as well? Or was Clark simply reading too much into a statement that could be taken more or less at face value? Normally, Clark had no problem reading his editor's moods and even piecing together what the older man was thinking, but right now he didn't have a clue – and he didn't dare ask for clarification, either. "It would have to be at that, sir," he finally responded cautiously.

As if reassured of some intangible fact, Perry smiled and stepped back, and his eyes skittered across the Metropolis skyline for a moment. Having gotten the answers he sought – or perhaps simply reassured himself of something he already knew – he seemed determined to put the whole scene behind him. Perry was not the type of man to deal well with personal discussions, and if he was willing to pretend nothing amiss had happened on this particular rooftop on this particular evening, Clark was willing to let him. "Well, again, thank you for taking the time to speak with me, son. I expect you have…things to get back to, and I won't take up any more of your time."

"Thank you, Mr. White," Clark responded in turn, referring to more than simply the gracious goodnight. He didn't know how much Perry truly knew – or suspected – about Superman's private life, but he also supposed it didn't really matter. As tactfully as possible, Perry had let him know that his secret was safe – at least for the moment and only so far as the Daily Planet was concerned. Perhaps together, the Kents could work on concocting some sort of plausible alibi, should the matter ever come up again, but at least for tonight, they were safe. They had time, they had warning, and tonight, they had further proof that, in Perry White, they possessed an invaluable friend, as well.

On that happy thought, Superman raced back home, unwilling to be deterred another moment. He would have to tell Lois about the strange conversation he'd had atop the Daily Planet, of course, but that could wait for tomorrow. For tonight – as, indeed, it was for most nights – the only thing that mattered was being with her.

When he finally flew through the wide balcony windows that had been the apartment's primary appeal when he and Lois had found it together, not one year before, he was disappointed to see that all the lights were out. Lois, it seemed was already in bed. Clark landed as quietly as possible and prepared to change into his pajamas so he could join her when he heard her speak.

"Hey there, handsome. I was wondering what time you'd be getting home tonight." Lois stepped out of the shadows surrounding the bedroom door and walked towards him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gave him a long, welcoming kiss before leaning away from him, her nose wrinkled in distaste. "I hate to tell you this, honey, but you smell like you bathed in cheap perfume. I take it a very ardent admirer swooned gracefully into your arms this evening in the hopes you'd whisk her off somewhere romantic and make all her dreams come true?"

The grin on her face was infectious, and Clark found himself unable to keep from returning it, though he'd meant to keep a straight face as he replied, "Sorry, Lois, but no. I only know of one woman who could be accused of swooning into my arms, and, as luck would have it, I ended up marrying her."

Lois's outraged gasp was met by a friendly punch on his shoulder as she cried, "Ha! You only _wish_ I'd swooned over you, Mister! I'll have you know, I'm above that sort of thing!" Then she paused, as he knew she would, and seemed to consider the matter for a moment. It was true that she could never have been said to have fainted gracefully into his arms, overcome by a fit of the vapors at the mere pleasure of being in his proximity, but it could also be said that there were the occasional moments when what she'd done had been _close_.

"I never swooned over you," she said with a sniff of disapproval. "I may have…tripped once or twice when you were lucky enough to be there to catch me, but I _never_ swooned."

"I stand corrected," he said gravely, though it was hard to hold back the laugh he so desperately wanted to let loose. How was it that he still found her so adorable, after all the years they'd known each other? Shouldn't he have built up some sort of immunity to her by now? But, no, she was still as irresistible to him now as she was the day they'd met; even then, while he'd found her rude, bossy, and annoying, there had also been something oddly captivating about her, something that had drawn him to her, even before he'd understood why he couldn't seem to stay away.

Lois chuckled softly, and he had no doubt that she was well aware of what he was thinking. "Good. Just don't forget it," she said with mock sternness as she gave him another quick kiss. Then, stepping out of his arms, she turned towards the bedroom. "Now, come on. It's late; we should get to bed."

As she stepped away from him, the lights of the city filtered through the doors behind him and illuminated her figure. She was wearing her favorite pair of old pajamas – long flannel pants with a matching shirt, both emblazoned with small insignias woven into the fabric. "The Superman pajamas again?" he asked in mock exasperation. The first time he'd caught sight of this particular set of pajamas had been before he and Lois had begun dating, and, at the time, his reaction to seeing her in them had fueled her conviction that he harbored a secret jealousy towards the Man of Steel. Though she had come to realize her error in subsequent years, of course, the memory was still something of a joke between the two of them.

She had almost reached the bedroom door when he looked over her shoulder at him. "I'll get out of my Superman costume if you get out of yours," she told him with a flirtatious smile.

Clark laughed and prepared to speed past her, ready to make his way into the bedroom and out of his costume before her foot could complete its next step. "With an offer like that, Mrs. Kent, how could I refuse?" 


	2. Solar Flares Cause Widespread

**A/N:** I should probably get this betad again, but I'm rather sick of looking at it, so here it is. The point of this chapter may not be immediately apparent, but I assure you that things are about to really start picking up for our favorite couple, and it will soon all begin to make sense! Promise!

**SOLAR FLARES CAUSE WIDESPREAD CELLULAR BLACKOUTS** _Article by Clark Kent_

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with my wife?" Clark asked as he bolted upright in bed and stared at the obvious impersonator kneeling on the mattress beside him. His eyes shot from the Lois-imposter to the window, where the faint rays of dawn light filtered through the glass to fall across the bed.

The Lois-imposter laughed. "Ha, ha. Funny man," she said sarcastically as she picked up her pillow and hit him with it playfully. "Now, come on, Clarkie. I've decided to go for a run this morning, and I thought you might like to join me."

"But…but…but it's not even 7:30! And you're awake! And wanting to go for run! And…and you're awake! And it's _Saturday_!" he spluttered, considering any one of these protests to be sufficient cause to believe there was something wrong with his wife. The force of the lot of them together was almost too much for his brain to process.

The Lois-impostor stuck her tongue out at him and rolled her eyes as she flipped over and scooted to the edge of the bed, hopping to her feet with more energy than Clark thought he'd ever seen her possess in the totality of her lifetime, let alone at such an early hour of the day. "Of course, if you don't think you can keep up with me, you're welcome to stay here," she said offhandedly as she slipped on her sneakers and leaned forward to tie the laces. It was only then that Clark realized that she was not only awake, she was in full running gear, as well.

His conviction that there was something wrong was only reinforced.

Oblivious to her husband's growing alarm, Lois continued in her teasing tone, "But don't blame me if you start getting a little too chubby for that Super Suit of yours. I am _not_ going to sew you a new one, I should have you know."

"If your sewing skills are anything like your cooking, I'm relieved," he muttered, and though he thought he'd been too quiet for her to hear, he must have either been louder than he'd thought or the woman in front of him really was his wife, as only she would know him well enough to realize that the mock affronted glare she was shooting his way was entirely deserved.

Though he still thought it was incredible that his wife was awake, alert, and so eager to get moving so early in the day, Clark climbed slowly out of bed and threw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt so he could join her on her run. All joking aside, the thought of Lois surprising him this morning with her behavior was not so terribly impossible to believe. If there was thing about Lois that he count on every time, it was the unpredictability that was so inherent in her nature.

His initial incredulity was only compounded, however, when she woke him up almost as early the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. For the next several days, in fact, she woke him up with the startling announcement that she was in the mood for a run, a declaration he found no less inexplicable and startling on day six as he did on day one.

He would have been seriously convinced that there was something wrong with his wife (possibly even that his initial impression that she was an imposter) had merit were it not for the fact that she was so patently Lois in almost every other respect. Her sarcasm, her wit, her humor…none of these were in the least different.

The only other aspect of their daily life that changed, in fact, was that every night, when the two of them returned home, the energy that so alarmed him in the mornings was nowhere in evidence, and his wife stumbled off to bed and collapsed in a dead-to-the-world manner that seemed a bit excessive, even by her standards. This probably wouldn't have been particularly noteworthy, except that the woman he had married had been a night owl, the late hours she regularly kept almost enough to make an insomniac blanch.

But not any longer. For the past week, Lois had managed to stay awake only about as long as it took to get home and have dinner, and then she'd lumbered off to bed and fallen into a heavy slip from which she didn't stir until the next morning. The first night that she'd gone to bed before ten, Clark had shrugged it off as the inevitable after-effects of the early morning jaunt she had so inexplicably embraced. The next night, he'd shaken his head and laughed that she'd tire herself out so early two nights in a row.

But after six nights, Clark seriously began to wonder if there was something wrong. His wife was just acting in such a…non-Lois fashion. It would figure that only she could so confound him by doing nothing more nefarious than getting up and going to sleep earlier than usual, but she was such a constant in his life, her behavior such a second nature to him, that he couldn't help but be concerned over even the slightest change in her familiar routine.

He almost mentioned something to her, but on Friday, he had reason to suspect that he was getting the old Lois back. She still got up early in the morning to run, but it wasn't quite as early as it had been on previous mornings, and she wasn't quite as energetic in her task. He couldn't help but smile at the glower she shot the overcast sky during their entire run, and when she'd snapped at him for the effusive energy he projected (Lois had never had any compunction about declaring her feelings on the way her husband always had a rather sickening surplus of energy) for such an unsightly hour, he'd stopped in his tracks, swept her into his arms, and kissed her out of simple gratitude to hear such familiar words coming from her mouth.

By the time they got to work, Clark was in an inordinately cheerful mood for such an otherwise gloomy day. It was Friday, which meant date night in his and Lois's little world, and that was something Clark always approached with an almost overzealous amount of anticipation.

As the day wore on, and he was continually comforted by the sight of Lois's old self, he began to realize how much of his wife's behavior _hadn't_ been typical of late. He couldn't be entirely certain when the changes – subtle as they were – had begun, but it had been at least a few weeks that she vacillated at work from almost manic excitement to near-comatose exhaustion. She was either vibrating with the urge to go out and do something or practically asleep at her desk.

Sitting at his computer, watching his wife grimace at the receiver in her hand as she spent what she declared to be her third consecutive year on hold, Clark tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the hard surface of his desk as he tried to think back, to place when her personality had begun its gradual shift.

He couldn't be certain, but he was willing to bet it was around the moment he informed Lois of the peculiar conversation Superman had shared with Perry on top of the Daily Planet, barely a month past. She had taken the news poorly, though about as well as he'd expected, and had immediately begun to worry about her husband's safety. For his part, he'd tried his best to reassure her, but even at the time he'd known that, like him, she'd felt this peculiar sense that there was another shoe out there, ready to drop at a moment's notice.

That feeling had never entirely faded, though Perry had never given Clark any reason to suspect he was going to renege on the promise he'd made to Superman on that rooftop – or even that he remembered the conversation at all. Of course, it wasn't exactly like Clark could ask him. He wanted so badly to know whether Perry suspected more than he'd even implied. He wanted to know if his boss and mentor knew about Superman's secret identity, about the fact that the superhero whose exploits graced the front page of the Daily Planet with almost absurd regularity was the same man who was currently staring blankly at a wall of the same paper's bullpen. But of course he couldn't ask, and Perry had never once alluded to the issue again – had never even implied, by word, tone, or even a furtive glance that he knew more than he let on. So of course Clark couldn't be sure.

And if it drove him crazy, he could only imagine what it was doing to the woman who bore his secret heaviest of all. Lois Lane-Kent was not a woman who took subtlety well. She wasn't a woman of grey areas; one of the things he loved most about her was that she was so open and honest about her feelings. Even when they first met, he may have driven her crazy on occasion, but she'd never once balked at the thought of telling him just that.

Now, of course, there was a giant grey area hovering over the both of them. Just because Perry White had agreed not to publish a story about the wedding ring Superman wore on a chain around his neck was no reason to suspect that the Kents were completely safe. Somewhere out there was the photographer who had taken the shot, and it was very likely that he had, if not a copy, then the negatives of the photo he'd sold to the Planet. And even if they were safe from that quarter, there was always the threat of next time.

Just because Lois spoke her mind about her feelings didn't mean that she hounded him about things she knew he couldn't change, so it was entirely possible – even likely – that the issue preyed on her mind more than she let on. Given her behavior over the past month, Clark would even say that was probable.

One thing was certain: she couldn't go on as she had been. They had avoided the issue for long enough, carefully sidestepping any mention of the vague threat that loomed overhead. It was high time they actually did something to address the issue.

Tonight was as good a night as any other – better, in fact, as there wasn't a person in their acquaintance who wasn't aware of the import the married couple placed on their Friday evenings and was thus reluctant to intrude on the treasured weekly ritual. Though Clark hated to inject such a serious topic into what was supposed to be a fairly lighthearted evening, he knew that the two of them would have no better opportunity to discuss a matter of such importance without interruption.

Getting to his feet, Clark drained his half-empty coffee cup and drained it in one long gulp so as to have an excuse to pass by his wife's desk. Then, making his way toward the coffee pot, he stopped by her chair, leaned against the side of her desk, and waited for her to get off the phone before speaking.

"But I…no! Don't you dare transfer me! I've already _talked_ to that departme…Gah!" Shrieking in frustration, Lois slammed the phone back in the cradle and looked up at her husband in indignation. "Great! I spent the better part of this decade on hold with those people, just to find out that everybody who works there is a little hazy on how to tie their own shoes, let alone who could answer my questions!"

Smiling sympathetically, Clark shifted behind her chair and started massaging her shoulders gently, not speaking until he saw her eyes flutter shut and her head loll back in mindless pleasure. "Better?" he murmured softly, bemused by the expression of bliss on her familiar features.

"Much. I knew there was a reason I married you," she grinned and teased as her eyes fluttered open once more. Though he still stood slightly behind her, she reached for him, grabbed his tie, and pulled him down to her level as she twisted slightly to brush her lips against his own. "Sorry I was in such a bad mood this morning."

"Sweetheart, it's the mornings you're not a bit grumpy that I worry about you," he retorted not entirely jokingly. "Anyway, I was wondering if you were up for date night tonight." She had released her hold on his tie, so he straightened and smiled down at her.

Spinning to face him, she leaned back in her chair, steepled her fingers across her stomach, and replied lightly, "And when have I ever been known to refuse?"

Clark wanted to prolong the moment, but a nearby phone began to ring, recalling her to her thwarted task, and Lois spun back around and snatched up her receiver – no doubt to continue her ongoing quest to find a source with half a brain. With a bemused smile on his face, Clark strolled back to his desk, his desire for coffee forgotten in the sense of buoyancy his encounter with Lois had given him.

But things were looking dubious at best, Clark conceded a few hours later as he watched Lois yawn over her keyboard, her chin resting on one hand as she poke half-heartedly at the keys with the other. He recognized the signs of an immediate crash when he saw them, and he got to his feet with the utter certainty that the night he had planned with Lois (and he had planned much more that had nothing to do with the heart-to-heart he knew was so important) was about to go right out the window.

But when he moved to her side and rested his hand on her shoulder, she glanced up at him with a small smile as if nothing was wrong. "You okay?" he asked her, gazing down at her with worried eyes.

"Sure why wo-wouldn't I be?" she asked around a yawn as she rose to her feet. "Just let me grab my coat and I'll be ready to go." Turning to grab the object in question from the rack by her desk, she asked, "So, what do you have in store for the two of us tonight?" Each week, they alternated the planning of their date nights, and it was Clark's turn.

"I thought we'd go out to dinner first; there's something we need to talk about, and we haven't really had a lot of opportunities lately," he replied as he helped her into the heavy wool trenchcoat. "If that's okay."

With a shrug, she hooked her arm in his and headed toward the door, though he noticed she leaned rather more heavily on him than usual. "Sounds good to me," she replied, and though he could see she was trying to look cheerful, there were shadows around her eyes and a tightness to her lips as she tried to stifle a yawn that betrayed her exhaustion.

Clark wanted to ask her if she was okay, really okay, but he knew she would shrug him off as she did before so he forestalled the question for the moment. And maybe he really was reading more into her behavior than the situation warranted. Sure, she was tired, but it had been a long week at work and it wasn't exactly fair to use his own energy level as a basis for comparison. Just because she was tired didn't mean there was anything wrong.

He almost managed to convince himself of that fact, and he might have succeeded entirely were it not for Lois's behavior once they reached the apartment the two of them shared, just a few blocks from the Daily Planet building. They'd left work a little later than they'd planned (though still earlier than they'd managed all week); dusk had already settled on the city by the time they'd reached their apartment, and if they didn't hurry, they were going to miss their reservation. Lois asked Clark to give her a few minutes to change before heading to the restaurant, and he'd done so, but when she hadn't reemerged from the bedroom – or even made a sound – almost a full fifteen minutes after she'd told him she would be ready, he went in to check on her.

That was when he found her, her head pillowed upon her crossed arms and a stick of eyeliner clenched in one fist, dead asleep at her armoire. She was even snoring gently, and she looked so peaceful and serene at the moment that Clark almost felt like a cad putting his hand on her shoulder and shaking her gently awake.

It took more than one attempt before her eyes fluttered open, and then she looked sleepily up at him before her expression morphed into sheepishness. "Oh, C-Clark," she said apologetically around a wide yawn, sitting up on a stretch. "I'm sorry, honey. I'm just so tired; I must have fallen asleep…"

"Halfway through putting on your makeup?" Clark asked with arched eyebrows as he nodded at the eyeliner in her hand.

She looked down at it in incomprehension for a moment before shrugging and laying it aside. Clearly she didn't see anything peculiar in her recent behavior, so Clark was tempted to let the matter drop. Maybe he was being the over-attentive husband, seeing reasons for concern where there were none.

Except…he knew Lois, and that's how he _knew_ something was wrong.

But she obviously didn't share his distress, because she grabbed his hand in hers and asked lightly, "Do you think we can just stay in and have date night here? I know you've been looking forward to going out, but I just don't think I'm up to it tonight."

She was going to think he was insane, but he didn't care. "Actually, Lois…that's something I wanted to talk to you about tonight," he said heavily as she stood and brushed past him. Stopping in her tracks, she turned to him with a bewildered expression; clearly she didn't think there had been anything amiss about her behavior lately.

With a heavy heart, Clark rose to his feet and faced her. If Lois truly was oblivious to the recent change in routine, it wasn't going to be easy to convince her of it, he knew – particularly if he was right about why she'd been acting a bit peculiar lately.

"Lois…honey…I'm worried about you," he said rather abruptly, and her expression changed from bewildered to downright flabbergasted.

"I don't understand…Because I'm too tired to go to dinner?" she asked. "But I…I told you, I'm just too tired to do it _tonight_. I know you're disappointed, but, honestly, there's no reason for you to be…"

And now he faced the unpleasant question of how to explain the thoughts that were still nebulous in his own mind to her in a coherent fashion. He couldn't explain why he was worried about Lois, in good part, except to say that he just _knew_ she wasn't acting like herself. It was a thousand tiny little inconsequential things that, when added up, _meant_ something.

"It's not about tonight," he declared, cutting her off. "I mean…it _is_ about tonight, but it's not _just_ about tonight. Lois…you've been different lately."

Frowning now in concern, though still clearly confused, she parroted, "I've been different? Different how?" For a brief, shiny moment, as she stood there and faced him with an encouraging look on her face, he had hope that she wasn't going to need much convincing, that maybe she'd picked up on the intangible _something_ just as he had, but then she crossed her arms over her chest and his heart sank.

He knew his wife well enough to know that he had an uphill climb ahead of him, but he loved her too much to let that stop him. "Well, frankly, it's a little hard to explain but…for starters…you've been tired a lot lately."

It sounded lame, even to his own ears, so he couldn't really blame her when she gaped at him as if she thought him insane. "I've been tired? That's why you…Clark, I love you, and I appreciate that you worry about me, but don't you think that's a little…" She scoffed, and her voice trailed off for a second. "Okay, so I've been tired lately! I hate to tell you this, sweetheart, but people get tired!"

"Not like this!" he shot back, digging in. He didn't want to turn this into an argument, but at the same time, he was determined that she would listen to what he was trying to say. "Lois, you're not just getting a _little_ tired. I'm not saying you…you yawn more than you used to when we're watching movies at night or that you…you only work out four days a week instead of five!

"You haven't just been _tired_ lately; you've been _exhausted_! How many night this week alone have I had to almost carry you through the front door to this apartment because you were so tired, you could barely stand?

He could tell she was barely suppressing the urge to roll her eyes; how could she not see that this was a problem? Stepping closer to him, she laid her hands on his shoulders and looked earnestly up into his face. "Clark…I love that you worry about me, but this is just silly. There's no reason for you to get so concerned over the fact that I have a _little_ less energy than I used to."

He couldn't resist the temptation to wrap his arms around her waist as he replied, just as earnestly, "I'm talking about more than a _little_ energy, Lois, and I…I'm concerned that maybe you're working too hard. Maybe you should take it a little easier, sweetheart."

While this was the only conclusion he could come to as he mulled the issue over all afternoon – the only thing that he thought could explain the otherwise inexplicable shift in her routine – he had to concede that he hadn't presented this concern to her in the best of terms.

And this suspicion was only confirmed when she backed out of his arms and threw him an aggrieved look. "What?" she snapped. If she was reluctant to listen before, she was downright truculent now; but, then again, he hadn't expected anything less from her when he made the suggestion that she take it a bit easier at the job at which she so thrived. "I can't believe you would even suggest that, Clark! You know how I much I love wh–"

"Yes, I know!" he cried, striding forward to capture her shoulders in his grip once more. "But I love you, and I wouldn't say this if I didn't think there was a genuine cause for concern here! Can you honestly tell me you haven't noticed?"

She was quiet a few seconds as she mulled over his words, then she said resentfully, "Okay, so maybe I have been a little off lately. But I still don't see why you think –"

"You haven't been yourself since you found out about Perry's discovery sweetheart," he declared, interrupting her protest. Then, trailing his hands down her shoulders, he grabbed her hands and held them as he said, "I know you're worried about me, but there's no need to wo–"

"Of course I'm worried about you, Clark, but that doesn't have anything to do with this!"

Raising his eyebrows incredulously, he asked, "So you don't think the fact that it's possible there's someone out there with potentially incriminating evidence against Superman is maybe laying more than the usual amount of strain on you?"

She didn't seem happy to concede the point, but she did. He knew she would; Lois was nothing if not ruthlessly honest, even with herself. She only emphasized his point by taking the opportunity to indulge in an enormous yawn. "Yes," she said grudgingly. "Of course I'm worried. Of course I'm even more stressed than usual; can you blame me? But the point is…Clark, I know that I've been acting a little…differently lately, and I can't explain why that is, exactly. I know I've been more exhausted than usual. But it's just a phase! Sometimes these things happen! My body will reset soon and everything will go back to normal.

"I know you're worried about me, but I'm fine. I swear to you, I am! And as much as it may be hard to believe, I'm not working any harder at work than I usually do." He didn't know if it was something she saw in his face that softened her tone or if she was just too tired to argue any more, but she pulled one hand from his and raised it to rest upon his cheek as she smiled softly at him.

He couldn't resist taking the opportunity to kiss her, but his concern hadn't abated much. Perhaps she was right; perhaps this was a momentary phase she was going through. On the other hand, he imagined it was his lot in life to worry over her. However, she seemed confident that the bulk of his concern was misplaced, so he tried to relax a little. Still, as he pulled away, he gazed at her earnestly and asked, "But, still, for me, could you at least try to take it easy for a little while? I'm not asking you to refrain from going after a story, only that you maybe cut back a little on the death defying for a few days."

"Only because it's you asking, I'll _try_," Lois said as she shot him a sleepy smile, and he scooped her into his arms and tucked her into bed, well aware that their discussion had exceeded her temporarily decreased stores of energy.

Crawling into bed beside her, Clark tucked her against his body and waited in the dark for the steady breathing that would indicate she'd fallen asleep. It didn't take long. In the darkness, he whispered his greatest fear to her, knowing she was asleep and thus couldn't hear him. "I just can't imagine what I'd do if anything ever happened to you."


	3. Experimental Procedure has Unexpected

**EXPERIMENTAL PROCEDURE HAS UNEXPECTED RESULTS, UNKNOWN REPERCUSSIONS**_by Lois Lane_

"Lois, sweetheart, are you okay?" Clark asked, peering around the corner and looking down at his wife in concern. She was kneeling on the bathroom floor, her arms resting wearily on the seat, her head bowed as she groaned miserably. 

"I'm okay," she said weakly after a moment, but when she looked up at him again, even she seemed uncertain about the veracity of her words. "I just can't seem to shake this bug."

He crouched beside her and rested his hand gently on her back, moving it soothingly up and down her spine. "If you're not feeling well, maybe you should take the day off, stay in bed."

His suggestion was met with the sound of retching as his wife bent her head over the toilet bowl again. When her dry heaving had stopped, she rested her forehead wearily against her arms and gave a shaky laugh "If I weren't so disgusting right now, I'd think you were propositioning me."

"You're never disgusting to me, Lo," he replied reassuringly as he swept the stray strands of hair off her face.

"Says the man who's never thrown up in his life," she grumbled. Tilting her head to the side, she glared at him out of the corner of her eye. "Right now, I could really use your Stomach of Steel." Then, taking a deep breath through her nose, she tilted her head back and attempted another shaky smile. "Okay. I think I can get up now."

Clark wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her as he helped her gently to her feet. He continued supporting her as she brushed her teeth and washed her face. "You want to take the day off?" he asked gently once she was done.

Lois moaned. "Yes. But I can't. We have to cover that press conference at one thirty."

"I can take care of it you know," he offered, but he was unsurprised when she refused.

"No. I appreciate the offer, honey, but you know how I am. I'll just drive myself crazy if I stay in all day with nothing to do. Besides, I'm feeling a little better now."

As it turned out, 'a little better' was a relative term. Lois kept getting sick off and on throughout the morning. She even had to switch to water in favor of her regular steady intake of caffeine because she'd been nauseated by the smell of her usual cup of coffee. Though she made frequent protestations that she was feeling fine, Clark was hardly reassured when he saw her bolt toward the public restrooms, looking a little green, no fewer than three times over the course of the morning alone.

Finally, Clark couldn't take it any longer. Planting his body next to her chair moments after her latest return from the restroom, her face pale and wan, he crossed his arms over his chest and glowered down at her. "Lois…" he began sternly.

"Yes, Su…?" she began absently, reluctantly pulling her eyes up from her computer screen. Sucking in a sharp breath, she hissed, "Clark! Put your arms down or slump or something! What do you think you're doing?"

Surprised by her reaction, Clark looked down, but he didn't see the problem. Had he unknowingly acquired an embarrassing stain on his shirt or something? "What?" he asked in confusion.

Jumping to her feet, Lois skirted the edge of the desk, letting out a tiny yelp as, in her haste, she stubbed her toe on the foot of the desk and staggered against his chest. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she tucked her face against his cheek as if in a loving gesture. Instead of cooing or whispering endearments at him, however, she hissed, "You're standing like…like…like Superman!"

Resting his hands on her hips, he said in a low voice, "I'm standing like a husband who's concerned about his wife, Lo." But even as he spoke, he slumped his shoulders a little bit. "Sweetheart, I think you should go to the doctor."

Lois scoffed as she turned and met his eyes. "Honey, I'm fine. My stomach's getting better."

"Really?" he asked, his eyebrows lifted in a skeptical arch. "Well, in that case, it's about noon now. Do you want to get some food? You haven't eaten much in the last couple of days; you must be hungry. Want some lunch?"

"Lunch?" she repeated weakly.

His frown deepening, he demanded, "You can't even think about it without getting nauseated, can you? Lois…!"

With a tremulous smile, Lois cut him off, saying hastily, "Nonsense, sweetie! I just…can't stand the smell of food right now. But it's no big deal; it's just a little touch of the flu! I'm perfectly fine!"

"Really?" Clark was about to press his point when someone else made it for him.

"Hey, you guys!" Jimmy said cheerfully as he walked up to them. "Since it's just about lunchtime, I was wondering if you two wanted to grab something to eat. I'm thinking… sushi?"

With a pitiful whimper, Lois clapped a hand over her mouth and bolted. Clark met Jimmy's bewildered look with a shrug and an apologetic, "She's been feeling a little under the weather lately." Though Jimmy looked sympathetic, Clark was only more resolved. Whether or not Lois was willing to admit it, she needed to take a day off to recuperate from whatever bug she'd contracted.

Either even her stubbornness wavered after repeated trips to the restroom or her gastrointestinal exertions had finally made her too weak to really put up a fight, because when she had finally made it back to her desk and lowered herself wearily into her chair, she put up only a token protest at best when Clark insisted she take the rest of the day off. "But the press conference…" she said wearily.

"I've got it covered," Clark assured her as he escorted her outside and steered her gently into the nearby alley where, using his super speed, he changed into his Superman costume and swept her into his arms.

As they lifted off, Lois looped her arms around his neck and murmured, "You know…I'm feeling a bit better."

With a gentle shake of his head, Clark replied sternly, "You're still going to the doctor. You could be dehydrated, and I'm not going to take any chances with your health."

Smirking up at him, she teased, "You do know you're incredibly sexy when you're in overprotective Superman mode, don't you?" Her words took him a bit by surprise, and before he could respond, she said in a more serious tone, "Okay, I'll go to the doctor, but you really should get back to work, honey. I'll call when I get out, but I can make it home by myself." Clark protested at this, as she had to know he would, but she stood firm, which he didn't find surprising in the least.

With an exaggerated sigh, Clark set her back on her feet in the alley behind the doctor's office and capitulated…to a degree. "Just call me if you need anything, okay?" he asked with a resigned sigh, and when she nodded her assent, he brushed a kiss upon her lips and lifted into the sky once more.

Over the course of the press conference, Clark had ample opportunity to ponder all the ways in which Lois made his life easier on a daily basis. It had been so long since he'd come to depend on her for those small excuses for his not-infrequent absences, he'd forgotten how difficult it could be for one person to uphold his charade. Whenever he had to rush off to be Superman, she was always there to pick up the slack – a position that could not have always been easy for her, but which she accepted without complaint. Left alone, Clark was forced to place a small recorder in a strategic position when he was called away for a few minutes during the press conference with little more than a vague hope that he caught anything important on tape.

Then, he ran into Jimmy on his way back to the bullpen, and the younger man started to talk excitedly about the rescue Superman had dramatically pulled off while Clark had been "stuck" in the press conference. "I mean, I know he's been around for years, so we should all be used to it by now, but you see some of the things he can do and even you have to admit he's amazing!" Jimmy cried eagerly, looking expectantly at the man who was secretly the superhero the world so admired.

"Uh…yeah…he's pretty incredible!" Clark agreed with as much enthusiasm as he could muster as he reflected once again about all the things Lois simply took it upon herself to do for him without comment – maybe even without thinking about it. Clark had never been particularly comfortable talking about Superman in the third person. Of course, it was something he'd had to do often, in the course of his career, but he'd always felt distinctly awkward singing the superhero's praises. The things Clark did as Superman were simply things that needed to be done, and he was often the only one capable of doing them; he didn't act out of a need – or even a desire – to be idolized or put up on a pedestal.

When Lois was around, she had a knack for casually deflecting the topic away from Clark's thoughts of Superman's incredible deeds. It helped that there probably wasn't a person in Metropolis who was unaware that Lois Lane had once carried a torch (more like a bonfire) for the Man of Steel, so she was a natural person to talk to whenever the subject came up. It also probably helped that, because everyone knew that Lois had once loved Superman, they rarely brought the subject up in front of Clark, due to a mistaken – if logical – concern that he was likely not terribly thrilled about the reminder of the feelings one could naturally assume his wife might carry to this day.

It took a little while, but Clark finally managed to extract himself from the uncomfortable conversation. Once he was alone again, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. There was one missed call, and when he saw that it was from Lois and she'd left him a voicemail, he entered his code and listened to her message. "Hey, honey. I just got out of the doctor's office, and everything's fine. Um…I'm heading home now. I think I'll take a nap, but I'm feeling better so you don't have to worry about me. Um…I guess I'll talk to you later, honey! Love you!"

Clark hung up the phone, reassured by her news. Of course, he couldn't wait to get back to her, but, as usual, there were some things he had to take care of first. For one thing, he had to find somewhere private to listen to his tape recording of the press conference so he could escape the righteous anger of both an editor-in-chief denied an expected story and an affronted wife who had been repeatedly assured that her husband had everything under control.

A few hours later, Clark let himself into the apartment he shared with Lois and let out a soft chuckle when he heard a familiar voice carrying from the kitchen on his left. "I'm addicted to you; don't you know that you're toxic!" she was singing loud enough that Clark was surprised that none of the neighbors had called to complain. "And I love what you do, but you know that you're toxic!"

Clark moved forward to stand in the kitchen doorway, where he leaned nonchalantly against the wall and watched his wife in silent amusement as she stood in the last rays of sunlight filtering through the kitchen window and gyrated along to the song blaring through the headphones attached to the iPod that was hooked on to her belt. Clearly she thought she was still alone, as she swiveled her hips with wild abandon, and Clark couldn't quite bite back his amused chuckle. Luckily for him, she clearly didn't hear it as, executing a graceful turn, she continued singing, "Taste of your lips I'm all ri-agh!" Lois broke off with a yelp when she whirled and caught sight of him, and she hastily yanked the headphones off her head as she straightened with exaggerated dignity. "Honey, you're home! I…uh…I didn't hear you come in!" she said in an attempt at nonchalance.

"Clearly," he commented with a smirk. Stepping forward, he wrapped his hand around the iPod and twisted it gently so he could see the controls to hit the pause button. "Britney Spears, Lo? Really?" he asked in bemusement.

"It's…uh…well, you know, blast from the past. That kind of thing," she replied as if she didn't have a care in the world, but he could see her slight blush as she hastily yanked the iPod off and tossed it onto the counter. "Anyway, I wasn't expecting you back so soon. I thought I'd make dinner, but it's not quite done yet."

It was about at that moment that Clark noticed the smell of something burning, and he looked at Lois skeptically. She seemed to realize it at about the same time, because she let out a soft cry and whirled back to the oven. Yanking down the door, a cloud of smoke billowed dramatically from the depths of the appliance, and she grabbed an oven mitt and began waving it frantically at the smoke, trying to encourage it to disperse.

Stepping around her, Clark tapped her gently on the shoulder as she reached forward to rescue their dinner. "Let me," he said, his lips twitching with renewed amusement that only a crazy man would dare betray. She scooted out of his way as he reached into the oven and pulled out the casserole dish with his bare hand. Dinner – which appeared to have been a casserole of some sort, once upon a time – looked a little worse for wear; it was charred on top and had clearly overflowed from its dish and was now no doubt coating the bottom of the oven.

As he looked around for a good place to put the hot dish down, he heard Lois let out a little moan of regret that turned into a gasp a moment later. Turning quickly, he saw that a pan of something that looked like cheese sauce, which had been serenely sitting in its space on the stove top a moment before, had toppled over. Lois was looking down at the remnants of her concoction, which now covered the front of her oversized t-shirt, the shorts she wore beneath, and her bare legs below in horror. In her preoccupation with the inedible state of what she had planned for the main course for dinner, she must have accidentally knocked the saucepan over.

"Lois, are you okay?" Clark demanded as he thrust the casserole dish onto the now-empty stovetop and crossed to her side. He was somewhat reassured to see that she wasn't crying out in pain, so whatever the sauce was that she'd somehow managed to pour all over herself, it had clearly not been terribly hot.

"No," she said on a moan, apparently (and understandably) considering her outfit a loss and looking up at Clark miserably. "I wanted to make tonight special, and look what happened."

In an attempt to get her to smile, Clark brushed a kiss across her temple and said with a faint note of teasing, "Sweetheart, any time I get to watch the most beautiful woman in the world, dressed in nothing but her pajamas, dance to Britney Spears in my kitchen…trust me, it's pretty special."

She didn't seem to be particularly reassured. "It was just…I wanted it to be special!" she reiterated.

Heedless of the cheese sauce that was now transferring itself from Lois's outfit to his own, Clark wrapped his arms around his wife and drew her in for a hug. "Lois, you're obviously feeling well enough to try to make me dinner; trust me, that's special enough for me right now. Besides, don't you remember me telling you once that peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are my favorite? Why don't I make you one, and then we can go relax on the couch for a while?" Though he was certain this would help lighten her mood, he was surprised to hear the faint sound of her sniffle against his chest. Alarm shot through him faster than thought, and his arms tightened around her even as he drew back to look down at her face in concern. "Honey…what's wrong?"

"I…I just…You don't understand, Clark! I had it all planned out! I was going to make you a nice dinner and then after, I was going to tell you…But I can't even make dinner, and how am I ever going to be a good…I mean…it's just all ruined now!" she cried rather incomprehensibly.

More than just a little scared, Clark tried to speak through the breath that was seizing in his throat. "Lois…what is it you were going to tell me? Is it…did the doctor…there's not something…there's not something _wrong_ is there?"

Lois's eyes shot to his, and she seemed to recognize the terror on his face for what it was, because her expression softened. "Oh, for…I'm messing this all up, aren't I?" she asked rhetorically before taking a deep breath and grabbing his hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. Her eyes didn't move from his once as she said firmly, "No, Clark, there's nothing wrong. I promise you."

His shoulders sagged in visible relief at her words. "Then what is it?"

He watched as she took a deep breath, and she seemed unaccountably nervous all of a sudden. Her eyes dropped to his chest, where she stared intently at the second button down from the top of his shirt as she stammered, "Well, I…uh…as you know, I went to the doctor's office today, and I told him about…well, this little bug that I have that won't go away, so he ran some tests, and as it turns out…well…" She bit her lip as she looked up at him and met his eyes again. "It turns out that this little _bug_ of mine won't be going away for a while, yet. Several months, even."

Clark frowned in confusion; he had a feeling she was trying to tell him something, but for the life of him, he couldn't quite seem to figure out what. He knew the answer was probably really obvious, and there was something really huge he was missing. But all he could think about was that whatever Lois had must be more serious than she was letting on, if it was going to keep her under the weather for a while, yet.

So why was her face slowly breaking into that beautiful smile?

"Months?" he repeated a bit stupidly, trying to figure out what there was about this news that would make her so happy. "But that's…"

"_Nine_ months, to be exact," she interjected, as if that would be helpful. "Well, probably more like eight now; he couldn't be entirely certain. But he said that it's somewhere around there."

Everything fell rather suddenly into place, and Clark's eyes widened at he looked down at his wife's cheese-covered stomach. "He said…are you…you mean to tell me you're…?"

Lois let out a tiny shriek of happiness as she threw her arms around his neck. "No, Clark, I mean to tell you that _we're_…! We're having a baby!"

He didn't remember scooping her into his arms and spinning her around; he only realized he'd done so when he looked down at her in a mixture of amazement, elation, and horror. Putting her hastily back on her feet, he took a quick step back and raised his hands between them, as if to ward her off. Truth be told, he was afraid to touch her.

"Lois, what the heck do you think you're doing? You shouldn't be up and about right now! Shouldn't you…um…shouldn't you be lying down or something? Do you need anything? I should go get you something. Crackers? Do you want some…or how about some…uh…I could get you juice. Or soup! Do you want soup?" He was rambling, at least part of him was conscious of this fact. The rest of him, though, was transfixed by the implications of the news Lois had just given him. She was _pregnant_! What did pregnant women do? What did they eat? He was vaguely aware that they had strange cravings and needed special care, but he had no idea what that would consist of. It was somewhat ironic; if a plane was at that very moment falling out of the sky, heading straight for the center of Metropolis, Superman would know exactly what to do, but Clark was absolutely at a loss as to what to do when presented with the news that his wife was pregnant.

Lois, however, did not seem particularly taken aback by his reaction, because she started to laugh. She sounded like she was humoring him when she said, "Actually, I'm not really in the mood for soup right now, but thanks anyway. And it's okay, honey. You can touch me, you know. I won't break."

"Are you sure?" he asked, staring at her in a manner that conveyed the fact that to him, at least, the question was somehow in doubt.

As if to prove her point, she stepped forward and looped her arms around his neck again, brushing a soft kiss against his lips. "I'm positive," she said firmly.

He wasn't letting this go. "But…but, still…shouldn't you…go lay down or something?"

Lois chuckled against his lips. "Honey, I'm pregnant, not incapacitated – which is a good thing, considering that I'm going to be in this condition for the next several months. But if you're really set on getting me into bed, I wouldn't say I'd turn down your offer to escort me there."

Clark looked at her in abject horror. "Are you insane? Do you have some sort of death wish?" he yelped.

Inexplicably, she laughed again. "Clark, honey, how do you think I got in this condition in the first place? The damage is already done, so to speak, and I'm pretty sure basic biology will ensure that repeating the exercise is not going to do anything detrimental to my current situation. Anyway, people have been having children for centuries now, and I promise you that not a single woman has shattered into pieces from the experience."

Setting his jaw stubbornly, he argued, "Not one of them is having a baby that's half-Kryptonian, either." But, scared though he was, he wanted very badly to touch her, so even as he argued the point, he rested his trembling hands as gently as he could on her waist.

Still smirking, Lois said, "You're kind of adorable, you know, the way you're overreacting like this."

Clark scoffed, "Oh, you're going to tease _me_, now? I just want to point out that when I found out you were pregnant, I became understandably concerned for your health. You found out, and you tried to burn down our kitchen! Now, between the two of us, who do you think overreacted just a little bit?"

Lois laughed but didn't answer his question for a moment. Silence fell between them as she stared intently at his face as if looking to find something there. Raising a hand to his temple, she gently brushed the hair off his face and said softly, "Clark, honey…I know you're worried, but it really is okay, you know. Our particular situation may be a bit…_unusual_, but…nothing bad is going to happen, okay?"

Clark heaved a heavy sigh as he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her a bit tighter. He didn't want to argue the point or cause her any concern; for this night, he wanted to just bask in the joy that came from the knowledge that he and Lois were going to have a child. His worries could wait. But, even as he tried to shove his growing concerns aside, he was aware that not even Lois could promise him that what she said was true.

Instead of telling her any of that, however, Clark agreed, "Nothing bad is going to happen."

He could tell by the look on her face that she wasn't fooled into thinking that his doubts had been completely allayed, and she kissed him and held him tight for a while before murmuring against the curve of his neck, "Clark…you are happy, right? I mean, about the baby."

"A-are you kidding?" he blurted, jerking away to look down at her, his eyes wide with shock. There were so many emotions running through him at the moment, he thought it might take weeks to sort through them all, but overpowering all of them – even his anxiousness – was overwhelming joy. "I…I can't even…Lois, we're going to have a _baby_. Do you have any idea how much…I know we've hoped, but I think part of me never really dared to actually dream that…I can't even begin to tell you how absolutely, insanely happy I am right now."

"You're no longer alone," she said softly, a small smile on her lips.

"I haven't been alone since I met you," he corrected her, but he knew what she meant. Since the day he'd first revealed his origins to her, he'd known that Lois had been saddened by the thought that he and his cousin Kara were the last of their kind – that when they died, the Kryptonian race would be extinct. Now, this would no longer be true. "Anyway, I wasn't thinking about anything other than how incredible it is that the woman I love and I are going to have a child together." As he finished speaking he realized that his right hand had moved from the small of her back to her stomach, where it pressed lightly but protectively against her damp shirt. "Honestly, I have no idea how you do it, but every time I think you've made me as happy as I could possibly be, you find a way to prove me wrong. What did I ever do to deserve you?"

Before she even had time to answer, a boyish grin crossed his face as he thought about the child they were going to have. "Will it…will it have your eyes, do you think? And your smile? And maybe your chin?"

Lois laughed. "Don't you want it to have some of you in there, as well, Mr. Kent?"

Without missing a beat, he replied, "Oh, my tendency not to take as many risks, certainly." When she punched him lightly in the arm, he grinned and teased, "And maybe my temper. Or my…"

"Your ability to fly?" Lois interjected lightly, turning in his arms to look through the window at the sunset that cast an orange glow over the city. "It could be a little hard to explain something like that to the neighbors."

Because he knew she was teasing, Clark answered in the same vein as he pulled her against his chest and scoffed, "Now, Lois, don't be ridiculous. I don't think we have to worry about our child flying around the house; I didn't even learn how to do that until college. At best, I'm thinking our baby will be able to bench press his crib."

"Oh…well, nothing to worry about, then," she replied lightly. "Nobody will find that in the least suspicious." Snuggling back against his chest, he heard Lois sigh happily. "You do realize that chances are pretty good that these next few months…and then raising a super baby…well, things could get pretty interesting."

Clark chuckled. "We'll take it a day at a time, Lois. And like you said…people have been having babies for hundreds of years. How _interesting_ could things possibly get?"


	4. New Steel Stronger, More Expensive

**NEW STEEL STRONGER, MORE EXPENSIVE** _Article by Archibald Grant_

_"There's no more time!" he screamed as the ground shifted beneath him and he fell heavily against his workstation. He grunted from the pain but didn't stop to indulge it; there would be time for that later. Or, rather, there wouldn't be, but that didn't matter at the moment. Only one thing mattered now, and he was out of time._

It was an all too familiar dream, born either from a latent memory or an overactive imagination, and Clark moaned as he shifted restlessly in bed.

_The ship. He had to get the ship ready. Oh, god, there wasn't enough time! There will still things to do, still plans to be made. But he had no choice. His planet was dying; he had vowed that his son would not die along with it. "Please…just a few more minutes…please," he muttered desperately to himself as he raced forward._

And there she was, holding their baby in her arms, his little squirming body almost engulfed as she pressed him tight against her chest, her head bent over his. A tiny mewling cry escaped from her embrace; he was frightened, not able to understand what was going on or why his mother was so sad or so scared.

The earth shook again, the mighty rumble grew louder beneath his feet. As he stumbled forward a few more steps, she looked up to meet his eyes while tears ran down her cheeks. "It's time," she said, her voice full of a sadness that was too great to contain but which she would not have time to feel much longer.

"Lois," he murmured, entranced by the sight in front of him as she lowered her arms and gazed lovingly down at their child for a moment. "I don't understand…why…?" It was wrong. It was all wrong. Lois wasn't supposed to be the woman before him; it should have been his mother. Even in the dream, he recognized that the scene was different than usual, though he didn't understand why this was so.

She took a step toward him and stretched up onto her toes to brush a kiss across his lips, their child still squirming between them. "It's time for you to go," she repeated as she turned, and he saw a great ship looming behind her body. It was huge, built for a man, not the tiny structure that had once sent a child across the heavens.

"But I can't…I can't leave you, Lois! What do you mean, I have to go? I'm not leaving you behind!" he protested as he reached for her but she stepped just out of reach.

With the same expression of implacable calm on her face, she walked towards the ship and he found himself following her though, even in his dream, he had made no conscious decision to move. "Of course you will, Clark. You'll survive. You'll always survive. Even as the people around you die."

She reached out with one hand and rested it against the side of the ship, and it shrunk and transformed. The air around them cleared; the ground stopped shifting below. When she turned to look at him again, she was no longer holding a baby in her arms. She was pregnant, her belly full with child, her arm wrapped protectively around her stomach. She had such an expression of joy mingled with such sorrow that he couldn't even speak. "It's time. Goodbye, Clark."

Clark raced forward as Lois lowered herself onto the gurney that stood where his ship had been moments before. He was confused, desperate. He didn't understand what was happening, but he knew that she was about to leave him and he simply couldn't let that happen. "I'm not going to lose you!" he screamed frantically as he tried to grab on to her, but as he reached for her, she threw back her head and let out a scream that drowned out his own.

As if an inexorable force began to drag against him, he was pulled backward until it took all his strength to stay close to her, though she was still too far away for him to ever reach. Clark found himself unable to move towards her as she wrapped her arms around her stomach and screamed again, tears streaming down her face. "God, please, somebody help me!" she screamed in agony to the sky, apparently no longer aware of his presence.

"The child is tearing her apart," a disembodied voice said calmly from somewhere up above, almost sounding bored as it made the prognosis with a clinical detachment that was nearly inhuman.

"The son of Superman?" another voice interjected in the same tone.

Whatever the first voice said in reply was drowned out beneath Lois's screams, and Clark watched helplessly as an army of doctors raced onto the scene and surrounded the sobbing form on the bed.

"We're losing her!" Clark heard one yell, and he cried out in impotent rage and helplessness as he beat at the invisible wall of force that prevented him from racing to his wife's side.

Lois screamed again, the sound louder and more soul-wrenching than any that had come before and then, even more terrifyingly, her cry came to an abrupt end.

"Of course, he had to know this would happen," the bored voice said from above.

The second voice seemed to agree. "With Superman's strength? He had to know she wouldn't survive this. She never had a chance."

"Fascinating," the first voice said, for the first time sounding vaguely interested. "And the baby?"

"Won't make it. It's too early," the second responded sadly. "I can't help but wonder…He had everything he ever wanted. Why did he throw it all away?"

The first disembodied voice replied with a noncommittal sound. "Selfish, I suppose…"

Ignoring the voices that were so disinterestedly discussing his wife's death, Clark screamed again, trying to get someone – anyone – to pay attention to him. "Lois…please…please! Let me go to my wife!" Clark begged as the invisible force suddenly released him; his knees buckled and he sank to the ground. Though he tried to get to his feet, his legs wouldn't support him so he reached forward with trembling fingers and began to drag his pathetic huddled form forward.

Though he couldn't see the figure on the gurney anymore, he knew what he would find there, and he let out an agonized moan when he heard one of the doctors before him say, "Call it."

"Time of death…6:52 a.m.," another replied and everyone stepped away; one of them held a tiny bundle in his arms. "He killed her," Clark heard someone say.

Sweat was breaking out on his forehead from his exertions, but Clark couldn't give up. He watched helplessly as one of the doctors wheeled the gurney away, the motionless form on top covered with a bloody blue sheet.

"No! Lois! LOIS!" he sobbed, but his cries went unheard as, unable to do anything to stop the scene playing out before his eyes, he watched his wife be taken away from him forever.

"LOIS!" Clark yelled as he jackknifed in bed and looked around wildly when he realized his wife was not in bed next to him. His cry had barely managed to fade before he was out of bed and in the living room, where he found Lois racing towards him.

"Are you okay?" she demanded, her hand over her heart, and Clark swept her into arms that were still trembling from the terror he'd just experienced. Burrowing his nose in her hair, he breathed deeply, comforted by the familiarity of having her so close. The sound of her voice…the scent of her…the touch of her hand against his back as she held him tight, though she didn't understand why.

"I'm sorry," he said shakily. "I didn't mean to scare you. I…I just…it was a bad dream, that's all."

As she rubbed her hand up and down his back in a comforting manner, she murmured softly, "It's okay, honey. I'm here. Do you want to talk about it?"

Clark shuddered at the memory of the dream that had caused such fear. "No!" he said, a little too emphatically. Then, with a tremulous sigh, he tried again. "No. I just…I just want to hold you for a second, okay?"

"I'm not going anywhere," she told him, and he didn't know if she was referring to his request or if she suspected the content of his dream and was trying to reassure him that it wouldn't come to pass. He couldn't even bear the thought.

After a long stretch of minutes that weren't even nearly enough, Clark pulled away from Lois slightly and let out a shaky sigh. "Look…um…I know it's getting late. Why don't you head to work, and I'll meet you there. There's…there's something I need to take care of first."

Though she still looked uncertain, she bit her lip and nodded slowly. "Okay, sweetheart," she finally agreed, clearly biting back the urge to argue. "Just don't…are you…I can…I love you." He watched as she cycled through the litany of things she wanted to say, and when she finally settled on one, he smiled. For a woman of strong opinions and a sharp tongue when she had something to say and she suspected nobody was listening, she had an uncanny knack for knowing when to give him space and not press him for answers.

He could tell that she was still concerned about him fifteen minutes later, when she brushed a kiss and headed out to work. While he wanted to reassure her that everything was fine, he was afraid it would be a lie. If he was ever going to put his fears to rest, there was something he had to do.

Not quite three minutes later, snow crunched beneath Clark's red boots as he took a deep breath and stared at the ice fortress before him. What had seemed like a good idea in his living room was quickly losing merit. Over the years, Clark had come to terms, to an extent, with his biological father (or at least the memory of his father preserved inside the Fortress), but he still wasn't particularly comfortable talking to the man…memory…computer…crystal…thing. His difficulty in coming up with a word to describe the exact nature of his father's "presence" in the fortress was indicative of the discomfort he felt in speaking to the entity itself.

Regardless of his personal discomfort, he would go through much worse to keep Lois safe. There was simply absolutely no way he was going to risk the possibility that his nightmare might become a reality. "Father?" he began as he stepped through the massive crystalline entryway.

As Jor-El's voice echoed through the structure in greeting, Clark tried to shove away the unease he felt at the thought of the conversation ahead of him. Even though he knew it was for the best, he couldn't help but feel like he was somehow doing something wrong in coming to the Fortress for answers without even discussing the problem with Lois. Of course, the nature of his problem as such that he didn't want to worry his wife unduly, but he still felt like he was doing something wrong. Perhaps it was, in part, because he and Lois had agreed to tell no one (including, presumably, preserved personalities of long-dead relatives) of the pregnancy for another few months, at least. Though Lois was not normally particularly superstitious, this was one area where she'd declared she was going to take no chances.

So how was he supposed to discuss his worries without divulging the nature of his situation? As the moment was at hand, he had precious little time to contemplate the matter. Slowly, haltingly, he spoke into the silence that had fallen in the room. "Father, I…I know that you've said that it may not be possible for me to…for Lois and I…for the two of us to conceive a child, but I was wondering if you'd…well, if you had any idea what might happen to Lois if such a thing was possible. I mean, with me being Kryptonian – and my powers – I was…if we did try to have a child, what would happen?"

For the first time in Clark's memory, Jor-El was silent for the moment immediately following the question. Generally, even if he didn't know the answer, he certainly acted like he did. Even more surprisingly, when he finally did speak, his words were not such that Clark had ever expected to hear. "I do not know, Kal-El. Your mother would be far more likely to be able to answer your question that I."

"My…my mother?" Clark echoed stupidly, and then a voice that was as different from Jor-El's cold and passionless voice as night from day filled the confines of the Fortress.

The woman's voice was warm and even tender as it said, "Hello, my son."

"M-mother?" he repeated, still shocked by the sudden development. "I don't…I mean…why have I never…I didn't even know you were…"

Apparently unperturbed by Clark's lack of composure, Lara responded to the question he couldn't quite form. "A part of your father and I is preserved within this structure, Kal-El, but the process of preparing the crystals was long and arduous. When your father spoke with the Council about Krypton's fate, his findings were ignored and we were forbidden to speak of our "suspicions" again. Your father promised that neither he nor I would try to leave the planet, but the Council members did not trust him to keep his word. However, there was nothing more important to either of us than saving you, our son, so while he worked to build the ship that would carry you across the stars, I ensured that the Council members – always around, keeping watch over us – would not realize our intentions. Had they done so, I feared that they would take you from us, and we would not get you back before the planet was lost.

"I am sorry, my son, that I did not have time to prepare more crystals and have not spoken to you before, but there were so very few moments when we were not being watched and I could work alongside your father in his lab without risking detection. There is not, I am afraid, terribly much of me preserved in this Fortress."

Clark had to swallow heavily around the lump in his throat. While he'd always mourned the fact that he'd never really had a chance to get to know his biological mother, he had never really realized how much he missed her presence in his life. "But I don't understand. Why now? I mean, it's not like I'm not h-happy that you're…but why now, after all this time?"

Her voice was without censure for his tactless demand as she replied, "While your father wished to prepare you for your destiny on Earth, I worried about the life you would lead. I wondered if the people who found you would love you as much as we did. I wondered how you would feel, when you discovered the powers bestowed upon you by the yellow sun. I worried that you would be afraid and that there would be nothing we could do to comfort you on this journey you had to take alone. More than anything, my heart broke when I thought of the chance that you would never have the chance to know the joy that your father and I felt when we discovered that we were to have you. You were our miracle, the child we never thought we would have, and because we loved you so much, we realized we would rather lose you forever by sending you to another planet, so far away, than doom you to share our fate.

"And you have grown into a remarkable man, Kal-El. Though my memories and thoughts, persevered in these crystals, are limited and so I have not had the chance to speak with you until now, I have watched you grow into the man you are today. You have made the two of us so incredibly proud, my son. The woman that you love. Lois. Does she make you happy?"

"More than I ever thought possible," he admitted, smiling softly at the thought of his wife. "And that's why I'm here. We want to have a baby. I know it may not be possible, but if it is…that is, if it _were _possible…what would happen? What would happen to Lois?"

"You are worried that your child would possess your abilities? Your strength?" Lara asked, and Clark could only manage a nod in reply.

"I am sorry, Kal-El, but I am afraid I do not know the answer. As I said, I thought about the life you would lead here on Earth, and, of course, I wondered if you would be able to have a child. But there was so little time. By the time we discovered the planet's fate, we were afraid that we lacked the time needed to build your ship. I tried to do what research I could, but neither your father nor I could risk doing anything that might alert the Council to our plans. As much as I wanted to find the answers to these questions, in the end, the answers would mean little if you did not survive."

Clark's shoulders sagged in defeat. Of course, he'd known that there was a good chance the Fortress would hold no answers for him, but he had still hoped to find some small measure of comfort there, at the very least. "I understand," he said woodenly. "Of course you can't…I mean, it was probably foolish of me to assume that you would know anything more than what you've told me before."

A pause followed his statement, then Lara's voice explained, "As I said, I was unsuccessful in coming up with any real answers for you, but the situation is not beyond hope. It is possible that your child, if he did develop powers, would do so later in life. Just as your powers did not develop all at once, your child's might require time, as well. In fact, they might be delayed, as the child would not be fully Kryptonian. It is also possible, although unlikely, that the child's human genes would prevent him from displaying any powers at all."

Sucking in a deep breath, Clark nodded slowly. It made sense. In fact, it would probably be the best-case scenario. But it still seemed unlikely. Though most of his powers had developed slowly, his parents had told him that he'd possessed extraordinary strength even when they found him. Of course, when he'd been born under Krypton's red sun, he'd had no special abilities – it was Earth's yellow sun that granted him such superhuman powers. So it was impossible to know whether or not he would have displayed extraordinary strength at birth, had he been born on Earth. He wasn't about to bet Lois's life on a theoretical possibility, however; so, because he doubted that it was the only scenario and was desperate for anything that was even slightly more likely, he asked, "Or? What else do you think could happen?"

"A woman's body changes when she is pregnant, Kal-El. While I do not know for certain if it is possible, perhaps Lois's body might adapt sufficiently so that she would be unharmed by the child she carries."

This seemed rather less likely than the first option, and Clark frowned. Though he wasn't entirely certain he wanted to hear the answer, he asked softly, "Are there any other possibilities?"

Lara was quiet for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was soft and – if he wasn't mistaken – rather sad. "I am afraid that the only other possibility I can foresee is that, indeed, Lois may not survive the pregnancy, if the two of you manage to conceive." After another brief pause, she added, "I am sorry, my son. Though I hoped that you would have a chance to know the joy of having a child, I am not at all certain that it is possible."

"No, I…I understand," Clark muttered, though it was hard to form the words when he was so distracted by the tightness in his chest. Of course, her last prediction was hardly a surprise, but the expectation that it would come didn't make hearing it any easier. He had hoped that Jor-El – and Lara, it turned out – would have answers for him, but it was clear that they had no more ability to see the future than he did.

"I…I have to go," he said abruptly. Before turning to go, however, he said awkwardly, "Thank you…Mother. I'll come back soon, with Lois. I want…I mean, I'd like for her to meet you." As much as a person could meet a voice, at least.

"I would like that, son. Very much."

Even the enormity of the revelation that a part of his mother remained behind in the Fortress was not enough to distract him from the thought of what might happen to Lois during her pregnancy. Though he'd hoped not to have to worry her with the possibility, if his nightmares really did indicate a possible future, it was something the two of them would have to face together. He could not – would not – keep his fears from her, not when such disastrous consequences might result. Her life was possibly at risk; he couldn't keep that from her.

Tonight, he told himself as he landed in the alley behind the Daily Planet and quickly changed into his civilian clothes. Tonight the two of them would talk about it. There was no need to worry her with it just yet, and the weight he was about to give her was so great, he didn't want to force it on her any sooner than he had to.

Forcing a smile, he tried to push his dark thoughts aside. He wanted to enjoy this last day with her, while she was still apparently unaware that the pregnancy that had caused the both of them such joy could come at such a terrible price.

When he finally made it into the bullpen, he realized that it was probably going to be quite a bit easier to find something to distract himself with than he'd anticipated. "So how worked up is she, exactly?" Clark asked Jimmy with a smile as he stopped next to the younger man and gazed at Lois through the clear glass doors to the Editor in Chief of the Daily Planet's office. He didn't need his superior hearing and vision to see that his wife was in a rare mood and wasn't going to give way in whatever point she was making any time soon.

"You mean on a scale of one to ten, one being her on an average day and ten being…that time the Star scooped her on a Superman story?" Jimmy asked, staring with the same entranced expression that a number of his coworkers were using as they watched the scene with varying degrees of obviousness. "Oh, I'd say she's…"

"Chief, you can't do this!" Lois's voice carried through the glass doors and into the bullpen as she began to pace briskly back and forth in front of her boss's desk.

Clark was moving before the younger man could even finish his thought, but he didn't need anyone else to tell him that his wife was about three seconds away from going nuclear. As he rushed to the Editor's office, he heard Jimmy calling after him, "Good luck! I'll send flowers to your funeral!"

A few moments later, Clark walked into Perry White's office, once again marveling at the way his boss and mentor could appear so nonchalant while standing directly in the path of one of Lois's tirades. Even Clark, with all his superpowers, felt the occasional urge to duck when faced with the full force of his wife's ire. Perry looked like he was contemplating what to order for lunch.

Of course, Lois either didn't notice that her boss seemed less than impressed with her diatribe or she just didn't care. Maybe she was used to it. Regardless, she didn't miss a beat, declaring passionately, "But it's my story! You know I should be writing this one, Chief!"

Leaning back in his chair, Perry said mildly, "Archibald is a fine reporter, Lois. I'm sure he'll have no problem…"

"Archie's a green reporter, Perry, whose list of contacts consists of his mother, his barber, and the baggage guy at the Safe-T-Mart, and you know it!" she interjected, whirling on him and placing her hands on her hips.

Clark scooted around her to stand behind the chair she'd presumably been sitting in at some earlier, probably less impassioned, part of the conversation. Neither of his companions seemed to have noticed his presence yet, and it didn't hurt to be prudent enough to stay out of the tornado's…rather, Lois's…way.

Perry spoke again in that same unruffled tone. "Might I remind you that you were green once, too, Lois, and yet you…"

"I was never that green," Lois retorted as she stopped in the square of light spilling through the window, crossed her arms over her chest, and glared at the man sitting nonchalantly behind the desk. Anyone who looked at the two of them now would never suspect the deep respect, admiration, and even affection that Lois held for her Editor in Chief. Perry was actually Lois's mentor, and the two of them were very close. Clearly, that didn't stop her from going toe-to-toe with him when she thought he was standing in her way.

"All the more reason why he should get his feet wet, Lois. Now, I know you…"

She clearly had no intention of ever letting Perry finish a single sentence, because she screeched, "Get his feet wet!" Three blocks away, Clark could swear a dog begin to howl.

As if she hadn't spoken, Perry continued, "wanted to work on this story, Lois, but I've already assigned it to Archibald, and I'm sure he'll do a fine job."

"But Chief…!" Lois cried, and Clark scooted back around the chair to stand by her side. He could see what was coming; heaven knew both members of the Lane/Kent team had been in this exact position before.

"That's final, Lois," Perry said. And, with those words, it was. Years of experience had shown that when Perry said those three little words, there was no use arguing with him further. Lois's shoulders sagged, and she groaned, but she didn't say another word until Clark had escorted her back to her desk.

"Can you believe that?" she demanded as she threw herself into her chair and gave him an incredulous look. "He was being totally irrational!"

Clark forbore from pointing out that in the land of kettles and pots, Lois was Queen. Instead, he moved behind her and began to gently massage her shoulders as he said soothingly, "C'mon, Lo. Archie may not have a lot of experience, but he's not a bad reporter. Don't you remember when you were just starting out? Give him a chance."

It wasn't entirely Lois's fault that she was skeptical of Archie's abilities; he had a tendency to stammer incomprehensibly, flush bright red, and trip over the nearest stationary object. As she leaned back in her chair and looked thoughtfully at her husband, she grumbled in a tone that was slightly more reasonable but still betrayed the fact that she wasn't happy about Perry's decision, "Oh, fine. I guess maybe I could talk to him. Give him a few pointers."

Clark had to stifle his snort of laughter. He was well aware that his wife thought Archie was timid and scared easily, but Clark knew better – Archie wasn't particularly jumpy, it was just that Lois scared the hell out of him. He had no doubt that, while the younger man respected the female half of the Lane & Kent team and might be appreciative of her advice, he'd chew off his own arm before he subjected himself to a one-on-one meeting with her. He did have a tendency to bolt whenever she entered a room.

His humor faded and he began to gaze at his wife in concern when she rambled, "Or maybe he could use a partner on this! You know, the two of us aren't really working on anything important right now; maybe we could help him out! Or we could at the very least…"

"Lois, what's wrong?" he interjected, cutting off what was gearing up to be a record-breaking babble.

After her mouth opened and closed a couple of times but no sound came out, she managed to ask weakly, "What do you mean? There's nothing wrong."

"Why are you so hung up on this story?" he pressed. "I know you're passionate about your work, but there seems to be more to this than that."

"I…but it's…It's a very important story!" she protested.

"It's a thoroughly unimportant story," he countered flatly.

"Okay, so it's not earth-shattering. But it is interesting, and I…"

Again, Clark cut her off. "Lois, it couldn't possibly be less interesting if it were…" Mid-sentence, his voice trailed off as a thought occurred to him. He looked intently at his wife's face and saw dark circles under her eyes that he'd not noticed before, and his suspicion grew. He had assumed that he had been the only one to have been tormented by nightmares about what lay ahead of the two of them, but perhaps Lois had merely been very good at covering it up.

"I think you and I need to talk," he said abruptly. "Right now. Come on. We should go someplace private."

Looking distinctly unnerved – and even a little anxious – Lois began to protest, "I really don't…"

Straightening, he met his wife's eyes as let his gaze bore into hers. In a quiet voice, he said sincerely, "No, Lois. We need to talk. It's important."

Though she chewed nervously on her lower lip, she slowly rose to her feet. "Okay. Come on. I think the conference room is free." Brushing past him, she led the way to the empty room and preceded him inside. As Clark turned to make sure the door was securely closed, Lois moved to the window. Pulling up the window a crack, she took a deep breath of fresh air – over the past month, they'd realized that fresh air was one of the few things that helped with her occasional bouts of morning sickness. After a moment, when her stomach had presumably settled once more, she turned and said a little too brightly, "So what's up?"

After clearing his throat, Clark took a deep breath and said, "There's something we need to talk about, and I think we've avoided the issue for long enough. Have you been having…"

Before he could finish forming the question, however, Lois's gaze wandered over his right shoulder and she grimaced. "Damn. Perry's gesturing for me. Hold on to that thought, okay?"

With a sigh, he nodded and moved past her to sit in one of the chairs around the table, determined to stay put until she returned to finish their conversation. He had just begun to lower into the chair, however, when, behind him, he heard Lois let out a surprised yelp. Her cry was accompanied by the sound of wood splintering, and he jerked his head around to see what had happened.

As if in slow motion, he saw the door to the conference room start to topple toward Lois. The latch was still in her hand; apparently, it had come off its hinges when she'd pulled it open. Clark didn't even stop to think; he was by her side in fractions of a second, one hand lifted to catch the door before it fell on his wife's head.

The world sped up again. "It's okay. I've got it," he assured her as he readjusted his hold on the panel of wood and shifted it aside to rest it against the wall.

"Clark, what the hell…? How does something like that happen?" she demanded, sounding completely bewildered.

He was no less perplexed than she. "I don't know. Maybe the…Lois, look at the hinges," he muttered softly, pitching his voice so that only she could hear. He'd looked to see if he could determine what had caused the door to disengage from its hinges, but when he'd glanced at the doorjamb, he saw that the hinges were twisted and bent. Shards of wood still clung to the nails that were bent at odd angles.

The door hadn't fallen off its hinges. It had been ripped off of them.

"C-Clark?" she breathed, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Lois, I know you're upset about the story, but don't you think that destroying the building is going a little too far?" Perry's amused voice caught the couple's attention, and their gaze's snapped to his face.

"I…I…uh…it was…" Lois began to stammer.

"I think the wood was bad," Clark said, rushing to cover for his wife. "It just fell right off the wall there. Uh…can we help you, Chief?"

His eyebrow raised in mild disbelief, Perry's gaze travelled over the guilty looking couple, swept over the door, and then returned to Clark's face. "Actually, I was wondering when I could expect your follow up story on last week's article about the rumors of bribe-taking at City Hall."

Clark was only barely paying attention to his boss; he was far more concerned with his wife. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that she looked pale and shaken. Placing his arm gently on the small of her back in an effort to lend her strength and reassurance, he replied, "Er…we'll get right on that. Tomorrow afternoon. We'll have it finished by tomorrow afternoon. But…uh…you know, I just remembered that we have a…um…a meeting. With a source. For the…er…the article that you just asked us about, coincidentally. So we'd better go."

It wasn't his best effort ever, but he couldn't have cared less as he escorted Lois past a mildly baffled Perry and off towards the elevators. They rode down in silence, both being careful to keep their gazes straight ahead as if worried that even silent communication between them might be picked up by the three other people in the small space.

They didn't speak again, in fact, until after Clark had flown Lois home and they were standing in awkward silence in their living room, both looking for what to say. Finally, Lois cleared her throat and leaned down to place something gently on the coffee table.

It was a twisted bit of metal, bent out of shape to such a degree that it took Clark a moment to realize that it had once been a round knob, like a door handle. "What is that, Lois?" he asked quietly, though he knew the answer before he even bothered to ask it.

"That is the door handle to the conference room. It…it came off in my hand when I opened the door. I didn't realize I was still holding it at first, but…well, there it is." Biting her lower lip, she looked up and met her husband's eyes, silently begging him to explain the inexplicable. When all he could do was to stare back at her in hopeless confusion, she asked softly, "Clark, what's happening to me?"

Her quiet words galvanized him into motion and he began to pace back and forth, running his fingers through his hair in frustration and concern. "I don't know," he admitted. "I mean, Lara told me that it was possible that your body might change due to pregnancy, but she never even suggested that you might…"

"Wait a minute! What? Lara? Y-your mom?" Lois demanded, and he turned to her with a grimace.

"I went to see Jor-El today, and I met her," he admitted, and then he told her about his visit to the Fortress and what he had discovered there. She expressed amazement at his tale and eagerness to meet his mother, but when she asked him what had prompted the sudden visit, he skirted around the issue of the nightmare he'd had – as well as Lara's proclamation that Lois might die. They would, of course, address these issues at some point, but he figured his wife had enough on her mind at the moment; he didn't have to add to her worries.

When his story came to an end, he moved next to where his wife sat on the couch and lowered himself onto the cushion beside her. They were silent for a moment, the both of them staring at the lump of metal on the coffee table with its grooves that Clark bet would align perfectly with his wife's hand. Finally, Lois spoke. "So, I c-could…I could have your strength somehow?" she asked in a small voice that was filled with both fear and a hint of wonder.

Clark knew exactly how she felt. "I suppose it's possible," he admitted in a similar tone. "Maybe we should…try it out?" When her gaze shot to his and he saw the wideness of her eyes, he grabbed her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "It'll be okay, Lois. We'll figure this out. Why don't you…uh…well, we need to know what we're dealing with, here, so why don't you try to pick up the coffee table?"

He saw the tiny frown line form between her eyes, but she set her jaw stubbornly and nodded. That was the woman he knew and loved. She never backed down from anything, even when she was scared. Actually, she had a habit of not backing down _particularly_ when she was scared. "Okay," she said firmly, as if she was agreeing to take on the world instead of a squat two by five table. It wasn't exactly heavy, but it tended to be a bit unwieldy to move, so she generally had Clark help. If she had his strength, however, she would be able to lift it without his help.

That same determination was in every line of her body as she rose to her feet and stalked toward the table like a tiger approaching its prey. Skirting around to the other side of the table, she met her husband's eyes as she bent down and slipped her hand under the edge. Then, with her eyes still on his, she lifted.

Nothing happened. Lois let out a little grunt as her body jerked to a halt and the side of the table she was holding rose only a couple of inches before she lost her grip on it and it fell back to the floor. Her face contorted in a look of indignation, Lois glared down at the offending piece of furniture. "I don't understand! What happened?" she cried, her gaze still locked on the table as if she was demanding answers from it.

Clark was completely at a loss as to what was going on now. He wasn't surprised that Lois was confused that she couldn't lift the table; he'd been fully expecting her to succeed, as well. He closed his eyes as he tried to think back to the scene earlier, to determine if there was something the two of them had overlooked – though what that could possibly be was beyond him.

It took a minute before he hit upon the possible answer. "Sunlight!" he blurted, jumped to his feet. Lois, who had still been glaring accusingly at the table, startled, and her gaze jerked back to him. By the expression on her face, he could tell that she had no idea what he was getting at, so he explained, "Right before you went to open the door, you were standing by the window, right? Getting fresh air? For your morning sickness," he prodded until Lois nodded in assent. "Well, we know that my body functions like…well…like a solar powered battery. I absorb the sun's rays. You remember how Dr. Klein once speculated that, if I were kept out of the sun long enough, I might weaken considerably until I stored up more energy again."

"Okay," Lois said slowly, nodding her head as she considered his statement. "So you're saying that…that maybe I'm now like that too? Like a solar battery?"

"Maybe," he admitted. "I mean, if Doctor Klein's theory about how my body works is true…"

Crossing her arms over her chest, Lois retorted, "But, Clark, he speculated that it could take _years _for your body to grow noticeably weaker! It hasn't even been an hour, and there's no way I'm strong enough to rip doors off hinges!"

"Well, just because your body is starting to function in certain ways like mine doesn't mean it's going to work the same. Maybe you don't have as long of a…er…" His voice trailed off as he tried to think of the right word.

Looking bemused, his wife offered, "Battery life?" evoking a small smile from him.

"Something like that, yeah," he admitted wryly. "Or it's also possible that you take longer to charge, or your body is just learning how to store that kind of…of power, or…or something." Even to his own ears, the idea sounded ludicrous. However, given the information they had on hand, it was the only thing that he could think of to explain Lois's earlier fit of extraordinary strength.

Shrugging, Lois said abruptly, "Okay, then," and walked over to the balcony doors, where she stopped in the rectangle of sunlight cast upon the living room floor. Then, with a tiny frown, she threw open the balcony door so that she was standing directly in the sun's rays. The two of them waited for a long minute, and then Lois asked in frustration, "Am I supposed to feel any different when I get all charged up or anything?"

"I don't know," Clark admitted. "This is all new ground for me, too." They exchanged a warm smile of understanding, and then he suggested, "Why don't you try now? The potted plant on the balcony. See if you can pick it up."

The plant in question was in a huge lead monstrosity of a planter. This was a far more difficult chore than simply lifting the coffee table, but for all practical purposes, it would do.

Without a word, Lois walked over to the planter, bent to cup it in her hands, and straightened, lifting it easily off the ground. Even though she had seemed offended earlier when she couldn't lift the coffee table, Clark could tell that she was stunned that she had managed to lift the planter so easily. "Clark," she said in a strained voice as she slowly bent to replace the planter in its spot, putting it back on the ground with undue care. "I think we just might be in uncharted territory you were just talking about."

"Okay," he said, trying to sound confident, even as his stomach felt like it was doing back flips. "Okay, we can deal with this." His voice sounded marginally weaker as he ran his fingers through his hair again. "I mean, I figured out how to control my powers; how hard can it be to figure out how to teach you to do the same?" He was sounding increasingly less confident with each passing moment. "Of course, it's not exactly the same here, since we don't know the ratio of sun exposure to time that you'll have super strength, and we also don't know if that ratio will change. But we can do this." At this point, his voice lacked the conviction required to convince a banana to turn yellow.

Feeling powerless and abashed that he was so little use to his wife, at present, he pulled himself out of his thoughts long enough to turn his attention back to Lois. They would figure it out, but his first priority had to be helping her to calm down. He did not want her to panic about their change in circumstances.

As he'd been furiously trying to think of a way to teach Lois how to control her newfound ability, Lois seemed to have been pondering the reality of it. Whatever conclusion she had come to in her mind must have been positive, because she looked like panicking was the furthest thing from her mind at present. He watched as she picked up the planter again and put it back down. Then, with a twist of her lips as if she was deep in thought, she nudged the planter with her foot and gasped in delight when it moved with a loud scrape of lead against concrete. Smiling now, she did it again.

"Clark, this is…this is incredible! I can't believe…I mean, it's like…I never really thought about what it would feel like to be this _strong_! Do you know what I can do with this? I'm not going to have to wage battle with jelly jars ever again; they will now cower in terror! When you accidentally screw something on a little too tight, I won't have to wait for you to come home to open it for me! I'll…I'll…I'll be able to just pick up my car and move it whenever the jerk with the yellow Sedan blocks me in! It's…the possibilities are endless!"

She laughed, a sound of pure delight, and rushed toward him to throw her arms around his neck. "You know, I've sometimes been a little jealous of how strong you are, just because I recognize that some things would be so much easier if I had even a fraction of that strength. But this is…I mean, this is just so much _more _than I ever thought…"

She was so elated at the moment, Clark hated to puncture her bubble. However, he knew better than anyone the downside to having such strength. "I know, Lois. But there's something…"

"Do you think the muscles in my legs are strong, too?" she babbled. "I mean, how high could I jump, do you think?"

"Don't!" he barked, wrapping his arms around her waist to prevent her from trying to find the answer to her question just yet. "You might be able to jump really high, but then you land, and just because you're strong doesn't mean that you can't be hurt. In fact, you could hurt yo-"

"Oh, I know!" she said as she placed a kiss on his chin. "I was just curious. I wonder what I can do, though. I mean…stamina! Does this mean I'll have a lot more stamina? Could I run 20 miles every morning if I wanted to? How many chin-ups can I do? Or sit-"

Her sentence broke off abruptly, and Clark was glad to have his arms around her when she swayed, her face suddenly white. "Lois?" he asked in concern.

She didn't answer him right away. He watched as she swallowed heavily. Her breathing grew shallow and fast, her eyes suddenly grew wet with tears. He felt her fingers clutch his shoulders tight – tighter than they ever had before, and he had to readjust his hold on her to steady her as she swayed. "Oh, god," she whimpered. "Clark, I didn't even think…I can't do this! We have to find a way to get rid of my super strength right now!"

"Lois…?" he began, confused by her shift of mood, but before he could ask her to explain she tore away from him and raced back into the apartment. When he followed, he found that she was throwing all the blinds closed and muttering to herself.

"Sunlight. I have to block the sunlight," she was saying softly as she grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and threw it over the nearest window, hurriedly adjusting it to block out the light after her agitated efforts had pulled the blinds off the wall. "But how am I going to stay out of sunlight for the next few months? I'll have to live like a vampire! I'll take a leave of absence; that's what I'll do. I'll explain to Perry that I need time off, and I'll just stay here and not go out into the sun at all, and then everything will be all right. Won't it?"

She wasn't talking to him, but Clark was getting seriously alarmed by her mood. He'd never seen her so terrified. She was visibly trembling, and there was a sharp edge in her voice that he'd never heard before. "Lois, honey, calm down, okay? I know this is scary, but we'll find a way to deal with it. You can learn to control your strength. You're not going to get hurt, all right? I'm right here with you. I promise that I…"

"I'm not worried about me!" Lois cried as she whirled on him. "Do you have any idea what this means? Do you have any idea what's going to happen if I don't get rid of his strength _right now_?"

He wanted to move towards her, but he was afraid that she'd bolt at any sudden movement. Very slowly, he shook his head.

"_I'm going to kill the baby_!" she screamed hysterically, her voice cracking as shudders overtook her body. "I'm going to crush it! I'll…I'll…when I give birth, the force of…it'll…I'll kill the baby, Clark!" She was absolutely panic-stricken, beyond the reach of logic and reason. Shaking, she wrapped her arms protectively around her stomach and then yanked them quickly away, glaring at her hands as if they'd been about to betray her. "I c-can't…can't d-do this, C-Clark! I h-have to g-get rid of this st-strength!" she sobbed inconsolably, bowing over as she threw her arms over her face and gave in to her grief.

Though her words had rooted him to the spot before, the spell was broken when she moved. In less than a heartbeat, he was by her side, wrapping her in his arms. When her knees buckled and she started to fall, he caught her weight against his body and lowered the both of them gently to the ground so that he could hold her as she sobbed. He heard himself mumbling soft, reassuring things in her ear as she clung desperately to him, but he didn't really hear the words he was saying. Inside, his heart was breaking; he wished he could take away her terror, but he didn't know how.

When her sobs had lessened a bit, he brushed her hair off her forehead and tried to meet her eyes, but she turned her head away from him, averting her gaze. "I can't do this, Clark. I don't care if I have to live in a cave until the baby is born. I can't ki…I can't let anything happen to the baby," she whispered brokenly.

Clark shifted her position on his lap and said soothingly, "I'm not going to let anything happen to the baby, Lois. I promise you. I _promise_ you. We'll figure this out. I don't know why you have my strength, but…but maybe it's good that you do." She jerked in his arms, but he didn't loosen his hold on her as he explained, "Maybe the reason you have it is because…maybe you'll need it in order to survive this pregnancy, sweetheart. I-I don't really know how these things work, I admit, but if our baby is going to have my abilities, then maybe your body is adapting to compensate for them."

"You mean…you think maybe our baby is…that I've got your strength right now because you think the baby's somehow…er…giving it to me? That my body's adapting to give me his abilities, or at least the one he might have…or be born with…or something?" she murmured in desperately hopeful voice against his chest.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I think it's possible. Lara said your body might find a way to adapt to the baby. I don't know that this is what she meant, but if super strength is going to keep you alive, then I'm glad this is happening to you, sweetheart."

Very slowly, Lois turned her head and looked back at him. "But how will we know?" she whispered, her eyes beseeching him to take her fear away. "How will we know if this strength is going to be what keeps me alive or what…" She didn't finish the sentence, but she didn't have to.

"We'll figure it out," he repeated comfortingly. "If we have to meet with Dr. Klein and every other scientist at Star Labs, we will. We'll do whatever it takes to find an answer." When she gave him a shaky smile and melted a bit in his arms, he relaxed a little. For all the remarkable feats he did every day, he somehow never felt more like Superman than when he did at moments like this, when he found a way to take her pain away. "I'm not going to lose you," he vowed fiercely.

In silence, the two of them sat wrapped in each others' arms on the living room floor. Clark listened as Lois's heart beat slowed and breathing returned to normal, but he didn't speak for fear of shattering the moment. Finally, however, Lois asked softly, "This is why you went to speak to Jor-El today, isn't it, Clark? You were worried about what might happen with the baby."

Though this was the last moment he'd have chosen to address the issue, he couldn't lie to her. With a sigh, he replied, "I was concerned, yes. I thought maybe…I didn't know what carrying a half-Kryptonian child would do to you."

"Your nightmare this morning?" she prompted, tilting her head back to meet his eyes, and he nodded in response. "You thought I would be killed if our baby was born with your strength, because there's no way for you to know if you would have been born with it, if Lara had given birth to you here on Earth, or if it would have developed like your other powers." He nodded again, though he couldn't entirely hide his surprise at her astute assessment of her fears. With a wry smile, she explained, "I've been worried, too."

"Lois…Honey, why didn't you say something?" he asked, shifting her weight so he could more easily meet her eyes.

"Why didn't you?" she replied in kind, her voice not demanding an answer but providing one in the echo. Then, biting her lip, she offered him more. "I…I didn't think about it until a couple nights ago, when I was up late watching TV while you were out doing your thing. They were airing…It was the beginning of the movie _Alien_, the scene where the alien first appears, and I realized that…that the baby might be strong enough to do that to me."

Clark knew the scene she was referring to, where the alien tears through its host's chest, killing John Hurt's character in the process. "God, you must have been so scared. You could have told me, you know," he said without censure.

With a small shrug, she explained, "It was just that…the way the thought came to mind…I didn't want you to think…I mean, I was afraid you'd misunderstand because it's not the same thing at all, it was just a stupid movie, and I didn't want you to think…"

When it was clear she couldn't finish the sentence, he did so for her. "You didn't want me to think that you see an alien when you look at me?"

"Something like that," she admitted ruefully. "I mean, I know you're an alien, of course, but I didn't want you to ever think that it mattered to me or changed the way I felt about you."

He chuckled lightly and shook his head. "You shouldn't have worried about that, sweetheart. Of all the things I know you've thought of me in the past, I've never once suspected you were bothered or scared by the fact that I'm an alien." She still looked a little concerned, so he teased, "'Smallville,' 'King of Plaid,' 'dork,' 'geek,' 'mild annoyance…'" His grin grew when he heard her burst of laughter, so he continued, "'weird,' 'incredibly sexy,' and 'absolutely irresistible…'" She stuck her tongue out at him and rolled her eyes. "I know all those words have come to your mind in regards to me. And that was in high school alone. But I've always felt, when you look at me, that you see _who _I am – not _what _I am." He winked at her, and she smiled softly in response.

He knew he should leave it there. He absolutely should leave it there. He had never once confessed that he'd overheard her remarks in the elevator, so long ago, but he just couldn't resist. "I think at one point, you even thought I was 'stunning, spectacular, and sexy.'"

He watched as she frowned in confusion and then, slowly, a look of stupefaction crossed her face. "You…I can't believe you…you _heard _that?" she demanded, her cheeks crimson. "I can't believe you…you never said anything!"

"I have very good hearing," he retorted smugly, and she laughed and lightly punched him on the arm.

"Jerk," she grumbled as she rolled her eyes. Her mood considerably lifted by his antics, however, she sighed with mock exasperation and demanded, "What am I going to do with you, Clark Kent? If I don't find a way to distract you soon, we'll never get your ego under control. You'll spend the entire rest of the night talking about how great you are."

With a sigh, he turned his attention back to the greater problem at hand. Whatever they ended up having to do about her strength, for the time being, he had to find a way to teach her how to control it or she could potentially hurt someone. Including herself. When he explained as much to her, she slowly nodded her head in agreement.

"Okay," she said, sounding only a little nervous. "So how did you learn how to control it? Your strength, I mean."

"I don't know," he admitted, feeling incredibly frustrated. Of all the powers of his she could have developed, this was the one he felt the least equipped to help her manage because he didn't know how he'd learned to do so. He simply had.

After a moment spent lost in thought, he helped her to her feet as he rose to open the windows once more. If they were going to help her learn to deal with her new ability, they couldn't have it fade as they did so. Then he met her eyes and said, "Okay…well…the thing about my strength…our strength, now…is that it's not like my other abilities. My other abilities – with the exception of my invulnerability which isn't so much of a power as it just _is _– come to me when I think about them. I mean, I don't really have to think about them anymore, but…you get the idea. When I was learning how to control the rest of my abilities, they would only come to me when I concentrated on them. This one is always there. I know it's hard, and it's a lot to ask, but this is something you need to think about practically every moment of every day from now on. Every time you pick something up, every hand you shake, every hug you give…you have to think about what you're doing. Do you understand?"

Looking grave, Lois nodded. "Okay," she said, sounding slightly more nervous than she had a moment before. Clark couldn't blame her; he knew better than anyone that it was a lot to ask.

Reaching out to grab her hand, Clark held it carefully in his own. "The only person you don't have to worry about hurting is me." He squeezed her hand gently, the way he always did, and waited for her to return the gesture, as he knew she instinctually would. Though he knew she was stronger now than she had been before, the increase in pressure somehow still took him by surprise, and he grunted softly. When she tried to take her hand away, he held it tight. "No, don't! Don't worry. I'm sorry I made a sound; you didn't hurt me, it just…it took me by surprise." Since she still looked confused, he explained, "I felt it more than I normally do."

Lois lowered her head to stare at their clasped hands. "You mean…you don't normally feel it when I squeeze your hand?" she murmured in a tortured voice.

"No!" Clark cried, wanting to kick himself for having so misspoken. "Lois, that's not what I meant. I meant I felt the pressure more, that's all!" She still looked like she didn't believe him, so he blurted, "Close your eyes."

"What?" she asked, her expression both sad and confused.

"Close your eyes," he repeated in a more moderate tone. "I want to show you something."

With an obvious degree of reluctance, Lois did what he asked. Releasing her hand, Clark framed her face gently in his hands and stared at the features he knew better than his own. Tilting her head down, he softly, brushed his lips across her forehead before he gently brushed a kiss over each closed eyelid. He felt her sharp intake of breath when his lips traveled across the high bones of her cheeks. "Do you feel this, Lois?" he murmured.

"Uh huh," she moaned in reply. He moved his hands to her waist and held her lightly as his mouth roamed over the shell over her ear.

"Just because your touch was lighter before than it is now doesn't mean I didn't feel it. I feel it every time you touch me," he whispered, and whether due to the provocative hint of his words or the brush of his breath against her skin, she shivered.

"As long as you have your strength, you need to keep this in mind," he explained as she tilted her head to the side so he could kiss the soft curve of her neck. He ran his hands gently up her back, being careful not to let himself get carried away. Just because she had his strength didn't mean she had his invulnerability, so it was possible he could still hurt her if he held her too tight. "Do you feel the way I'm touching you?" Clark murmured against her skin. "That's how you need to remember to hold people from now on."

Lois let out a shaky laugh. "Clark, if I hold everyone the way you're holding me right now, I'm afraid we'll be well on our way to a divorce by the end of the week," she tried to joke, though her jagged breaths almost made the words she spoke incomprehensible.

Clark chuckled, but it had a distinctly pained sound to it. Though he'd meant only to give her a practical demonstration, he was quickly getting carried away. "Try it," he managed to finally say. "Touch me." There was a distinct note of pleading in his voice as he said those last two words.

As gently as he was holding her, she held him in return, skimming her hands up his sides and down the curve of his spine. Her lips met his as she ran her fingers through his hair and gently squeezed his shoulders. After all of that, however, she pulled away from him slightly and opened her eyes, blinking up at him for a moment.

Before he could ask her what she was thinking, she was in his arms again, but this time, it was without the previous exquisite softness of her touch that was so gentle, it was almost agony. This was all passion and fire, almost blinding in its intensity. It took Clark by such surprise that he stumbled back a step or two. This was the Lois he knew so well – unrestrained, no holds barred, keeping nothing back.

He spoke her name in confusion against her mouth as she jumped, wrapped her legs around his waist, and stole his kiss once more.

"I understand," she explained, panting slightly as he whirled around her. "I know what I need to do to keep from hurting anyone else, and we can practice more tomorrow. I'll juggle eggs, if you want me to prove it to you. But tonight…I want to touch my husband. For the first time, I want to know you to really _feel _me, Clark."

Clark groaned as kept his arms wrapped around her waist as he carried her toward the bedroom. Just when he was about to kick the door closed behind him, however, his mind conjured a peculiar image as Lois's words finally penetrated his brain.

In an incredulous voice that elicited a laugh from the woman in his arms, he demanded, "You'll juggle _eggs_?"


	5. Heat Wave Hits Metropolis!

**HEAT WAVE HITS METROPOLIS! SIX SEXY CELEBS SURE TO RAISE TEMPERATURES – AND GO FOR MILLIONS - AT BACHELOR'S AUCTION TONIGHT!** _Article by Cat Grant_

"Honey, you're pretty quiet in there! You didn't go back to bed did – Lois?" Clark had been calling out to his wife as he walked to the bedroom, but when he threw open the door, he paused in surprise. He'd been expecting to find her back under the covers, the comforter thrown over her head to block out the sun. Instead, he found her standing in front of a mirror, her shirt hiked up to her bra as she stared at the reflection of her silhouette with her lips pursed thoughtfully.

Catching sight of her husband, she blushed and dropped her shirt quickly. "Oh, h-hey, sweetheart. I'm just about dressed."

"What were you doing?" he asked curiously as he walked towards her, his eagerness to get her to breakfast temporarily forgotten.

Her embarrassment was absolutely enchanting as she grinned sheepishly at him. "I was…um…I was looking for a bump." Her last words came in a rush so that it sounded like one long word, mumbled in an undertone that anything less than super hearing would likely have missed. However, in typical Lois Lane-Kent fashion, she didn't give in to shyness for long. Lifting her chin, she lifted one shoulder and dropped it in a casual shrug. "I was just curious." Her voice was a little belligerent, as though she was expecting him to laugh at her – but, once again, this shift of mood was fairly common for his wife once she'd found herself in a situation in which she felt awkward or at a disadvantage.

Scooting next to her, he turned her gently so that she was standing in profile in front of the mirror again. "Hmmm," he murmured gravely as he slipped one hand under the tail of her blouse and lifted it slowly so that he could look at her bare stomach. Of course, his wife's excitement about the pregnancy was understandable; he didn't think it was ridiculous at all as he happened to share it. "Let's see." Staring at her reflection, he tilted his head and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

Her moment of discomfort passed, Lois rested her hand over his and said eagerly, "You see? Right there! I think…I think it's a bump…maybe? A tiny one?" The excited grin that had been on her face mere moments before had fallen, and now she was frowning thoughtfully again as she ran a hand slowly across the area in question. "Or do you think…maybe it's the cookies I ate last night?" she added in disappointment though her tone made it clear that she was looking for reassurance that the previously consumed Snickerdoodles were not masquerading as a baby bump now.

In all honesty, no matter how hard he looked, Clark didn't see a bump at all, whether induced by the baby she was carrying or the sweet tooth she occasionally indulged. This put him in a difficult position now, because he knew that to admit that he didn't think she was showing yet would disappoint her, but any allusion to her gaining weight for any other reason might cause her, particularly now, to smack him upside the head – and for good reason, really. And, of course, it was possible that he was just suffering from what Chloe occasionally laughingly referred to as "besotted blindness" – it was possible there was a bump there and he was just oblivious to it at present, but, then again, Lois looked absolutely perfect to him, just the way she had on the day they'd married, the day he'd proposed, the day they'd met. She was always perfect to him.

Unfortunately, while he was telling the absolute truth when he said this, Lois occasionally didn't believe him. Generally, her skepticism arose when she was particularly tired or disheveled, but while she was neither at the moment (so far as he knew), he didn't know if he should take any chances. He knew Lois better than he'd ever known anyone, but there were still times when her thoughts and moods were a mystery to him – and, frankly, from what he'd read about pregnancy, this situation was only going to get worse for him when her hormones induced mood swings.

"I think…it's still a little too early for you to be showing yet," he said a little nervously before adding, "But I do think that you're looking lovelier than ever today."

Rolling her eyes at him in the mirror, Lois laughed. "Nice. That was very graceful, the way you extricated yourself from that situation," she teased.

Offering her a sheepish grin, he confessed, "Well, it was either that or I was going to have to pretend there was a hurricane in Tibet to avoid the question."

"I suppose it wasn't a very fair question," she admitted in turn. Then, with a huff, she thrust her hands on her hips and glowered at the reflection of her still rather maddeningly-flat stomach. "Okay…no baby bump and no Snickerdoodles. I'm just going to have to wait."

Before he could respond, she sighed, let her shirt tail fall, and turned in his arms. Though he'd been on the verge of teasing her about her generally-nonexistent patience, he sobered instantly at the look on her face. Her eyes were concerned and she was biting her lower lip in the way she generally did when there was something troubling her. "You don't think pregnant women generally show by now, do you?" she implored him with more anxiety than he would have expected of the question.

Frowning, he said honestly, still somewhat baffled by her sudden shift of mood, "I-I don't think so. Why?" After a moment's pause, he added, "Honey, is there a reason this is worrying you?"

"No," she said bluntly as she shook her head. "Of course not. It's just…" Wrinkling her nose at him, she grinned and the moment passed. "It's just, you know I'm not very patient about these things."

"No, you're not very patient at _anything_," he corrected lovingly. "But that's what makes you so wonderful." Ignoring the scowl his comment had elicited from her, he leaned down and brushed a kiss across her temple.

As they moved away from the mirror, Lois walked over to the foot of the bed and flopped down on the mattress with a soft thump, causing the curled up bundle of fur on the duvet to let out a protesting squeak as it stretched languidly. As Lois began to devote her attention to scratching the sleepy feline's exposed stomach, Clark crossed over to the closet to finish getting dressed. Casually, almost thoughtlessly, he asked as he did so, "Lois, do you think it's time for us to start thinking about telling people? About the baby, I mean?"

Dead silence greeted his remark, and he stuck his head out of the closet to glance over at his wife. She was still sitting on the bed, pensively rubbing the cat's ears. She looked torn, so he abandoned the question of which tie to wear with the dress shirt he'd chosen for the day and returned to her side instead.

Outside of the two of them and their doctor, absolutely nobody knew that Lois was pregnant – not even their parents or Chloe. They'd never really talked about keeping it a secret; it was really just a tacit agreement that had formed between them during the first few days following the discovery. The thought that they would soon be parents and been so wondrous and incredible; their reluctance to immediately tell others of their news had been almost superstitious in nature, as if something terrible would befall them if they dared speak the words aloud to anyone else. So many problems could arise in the first trimester – and that was in a normal pregnancy. This pregnancy was anything but normal, and even super strength didn't insure against miscarriages.

Now a couple of months had passed, and the time had come for them to start considering when and how they would tell other people. Seeing the look on her face now, however, he wasn't entirely sure. "Sweetheart?" he prompted softly.

"I-I don't know, Clark," she admitted, her gaze falling to her lap. "I know it's silly. I mean, I know I won't be able to keep it a secret forever. Obviously. It's just…I think about telling people and…I get scared." For Lois to admit to feeling scared about anything was pretty serious. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he held her close. He remained silent as he felt her head fall to rest on his shoulder and just let her talk. "I…I keep thinking about everything that could happen, everything that could still go wrong, and I just…I know I'm being completely ridiculous and that whether or not other people know that I'm pregnant has absolutely no bearing on what happens. It's just, I don't…I'm not sure that I'm ready for other people to know. Not yet. Not everybody, at least. I think if the doctor tells me everything is still fine, the next time I see him…I think then I'll be able to really reassure myself that nothing's going to go wrong."

"Okay," he agreed. He didn't find her concerns absurd in the least; truth be told, there was a tiny superstitious part of him that was relieved that they weren't going to announce their news to the world just yet. Lois was scheduled to see the doctor again in a little over a week, on the second of the following month, and, until then, he didn't mind keeping it between the two of them. Of course, this was hardly the only – or even biggest – secret the Kents were keeping from the world, but it was easily the one that brought them the most equivocal joy.

"But I was thinking maybe…well, I'm not ready to announce to everyone yet, but there is one person I want to tell," she admitted.

Clark smiled indulgently at his wife. "Chloe?" he guessed, and he was surprised when she shook her head.

"Your mom," she corrected him. "I mean…don't get me wrong…I want to tell Chloe too, but I just…I need to talk to your mom first."

Though it hadn't been the name he'd expected at first, he nodded in understanding. It made sense that Lois would want to talk to the woman who was practically a mother to her. His mother had been the first person to hear about his engagement to Lois; it seemed only right that she would be the first to hear about the baby as well. Also, he understood that Lois was probably feeling the need to talk to someone about the future, about the momentous change that was about to come into their lives. Of course, she could always turn to him when she felt the need, but he understood that there were some questions he might not be in the position to answer.

He remembered what it was like, learning how to bear the burden which was the enormity of his secret. He remembered how it had felt, that internal struggle between the desire to be a normal man and the knowledge of all the good his powers allowed him to do in the world. He remembered the fear he'd felt – the fear he still felt – whenever he though about what would happen if his secret was discovered.

It had been, when he was younger, an intensely personal fear. He'd imagined labs, an endless series of tests. He'd had nightmares of being taken away from his family and friends to become a lab rat. He'd also worried, of course, about what would happen to his family, if his secret was discovered, but that fear had never really seemed quite real, somehow. Perhaps it was a natural inclination – the fiction every child believes unquestioningly, that his parents are untouchable, that they would always be there. Even after he'd lost his dad, there was a part of him that still believed that his mother would never be taken from him, _could _never be taken from him. There was a part of him, in fact, that still did.

Of course, he'd also recognized when he was younger that his friends were in danger, that anyone who knew his secret was at risk. At the same time, however, there had been a feeling (unreasonable or not) that he could also protect the people closest to him. He'd had a certain sense that, if he was only careful enough, smart enough, fast enough, he could always keep the people he loved out of harm – and if, by some chance, a danger ever presented that seemed likely to prove him wrong, he'd been convinced he was strong enough to walk away. It wouldn't be easy, he knew, but he could do it. For the safety and well-being of the people he loved the most, he could walk away and not look back.

It wasn't until he met Lois, until he loved her, that he realized how incredibly powerless he was. How easy it would be for someone to take her from him. Hell, he could barely manage to keep her from getting herself killed on a typical Monday afternoon (she did put herself in peril on an alarmingly regular basis). It terrified him to realize that, one day, he might not be careful enough, smart enough, or fast enough and someone could take her from him forever. And, unlike in the past, he knew now that he wasn't strong enough to just walk away, not from her. He could leave – he _would _leave – if doing so would be the only way to save her, but it would kill him to walk away. He knew that he'd leave a huge part of himself behind if he went, and that, without her, he would only be half the man he was today.

When he'd been younger, he'd known an intense fear on his own behalf, but he'd not really recognized the bone-deep terror that came from knowing he had to keep his secret secure on _another _person's behalf until he'd loved Lois. The possibility of being turned into a lab rat was a shallow concern now, when compared to the knowledge of what might happen to her – he had no doubt now that, if it came down to it, he would willingly turn himself over to even Lex Luthor's scientists if it meant keeping Lois safe.

It was soon to be more than just his secret, however. Though both he and Lois had recognized that it was by no means a guarantee that their baby would have extraordinary powers, it seemed pretty likely that the child would, given the superior strength Lois currently had. And while he would (he hoped) be able to help their child adjust to his powers as they developed, he knew that his mother would be able to help Lois cope with other concerns better than he could. His mother knew the fear that came from wanting to keep one's child safe and knowing the terrible things that could happen if the unthinkable happened. Clark had known he was to be a parent for less than three months, and he had moments when he wasn't sure how he could live with that fear every day. He had no idea how his mother and father had borne up under that pressure for all those years.

"Okay," he agreed, smiling at her. "I think my mom's planning on spending the weekend at the farm. We'll drive out there Friday after work." Noticing the time, he added ruefully, "But for now, we'd better get moving if we only want to be fifteen minutes late for work."

Clark laughed as his words galvanized Lois into action and, with a curse, she raced into the other room. In a blur of color, he finished getting dressed and followed.

"I need two large coffees, one large orange juice, and…," Clark paused and turned away from the electronic box, glancing at Lois. Seeing her gesture, he returned his attention to the speaker and finished, "a double chocolate muffin." Then, after receiving his total, he steered the car towards the window to receive his purchases from the barista inside while he knew his wife was practically quivering in anticipation of the sinfully rich snack that was on its way.

It was three days after their bedroom conversation, and they had just stopped for drinks on the outskirts of Smallville's city limits. They were only a few minutes away from the farm, but Clark had received a message earlier that day from his mom, saying that she had been delayed and might not yet be at the house when the two of them arrived. While he knew that Ben Hubbard had agreed to take care of the house and the farm both while Martha was working in Washington, given how infrequently his mother had the opportunity to return to the family homestead, Clark wasn't sure if the pantry was still fully stocked and he knew that Lois desperately wanted a cup of coffee.

Whether or not she'd be able to actually drink it was another question entirely. As soon as he handed over her cup of coffee, he knew the answer was going to be a resounding negative. The strong smell of coffee had filled the car, and now Lois was looking a little green around the gills. Hastily snatching away the cup with one hand before the coffee smell caused her to actually get sick to her stomach (the last couple of days had taught them both that they had a very narrow window in which to prevent such a thing), he rolled down the windows with the other and offered her an apologetic smile. "Sorry, sweetheart," he said as he handed her the orange juice instead.

"It's okay," she said, sounding distinctly grumpy as she did so. "We figured that was going to happen. I just can't believe that, of all things, the baby's not letting me have any coffee! It's not fair! This is _killing _me!"

The problem had only arisen in the last couple of days. Lois and Clark had both heard, of course, about how pregnancy changed a woman's cravings, making her desire food that she never would have eaten before while making other food that had once been considered delicious to be entirely unpalatable instead. They had joked at times about the foods Lois might crave during latter stages of pregnancy (his favorite so far was cucumbers in chocolate pudding), but it had never occurred to either of them that she might be put off coffee entirely.

She was taking the development with extremely poor grace. In her typically stubborn fashion, she kept attempting to drink coffee even though she knew the smell of it made her sick. Then, when her body's repulsion overcame her brain's desire, she invariably grew grumpy – though that could also be in part due to caffeine deprivation. Clark knew she was trying to come to terms with the idea of not having coffee for the next few months, but he also knew that she was hoping this phase would pass sooner rather than later. Coffee had been such an important staple in her diet for so long – it had sometimes been the only thing to help get her through long late-night hours spent piecing a story together – and he knew the transition was difficult for her.

"Looking on the bright side, though…I won't have to worry about getting scurvy!" she joked a little feebly, clearly trying to console herself as she took a giant swig of juice. Then, with a happy sigh, she reached back into the bag and pulled out her double chocolate muffin with a self-satisfied smile. "At least I can still have choco- Oh, you have _got _to be kidding me!" she cried sharply, causing Clark to jump in surprise. As he pulled up the drive in front of the farmhouse, he glanced over at his wife to see that she was looking a little nauseated again. Apparently, coffee wasn't the only thing her pregnancy was going to deny her.

Before he could ask her if his deduction was correct, she continued, "No. This has gone too far! Okay, so you won't let me have coffee. I'm dealing with that because I can understand how you might not appreciate the finer points of a cup of coffee. It's an acquired taste; I get that! But you can't intend to take away chocolate too! For one thing, I _need _it! And don't you know that it's one of the best foods ever invented? Come on, give it a try…I _guarantee _you that you'll…"

"Lois," Clark injected, arching his eyebrows as he glanced over at her in bemusement. "Are you actually arguing with the baby?"

Glowering over at him, she snapped, "Well, she's being stubborn!" Her glower darkened until she was glaring daggers at him. "This is your fault, you know!" He opened his mouth to ask her how she could possibly blame this on him, but she continued accusatorily, "_My _genes all love chocolate! And, besides, it would only figure that any genes that would torment me like this would have to come from you! They probably think it's funny or something!"

Clark didn't exactly know how to go about arguing that he shouldn't be held to blame for what if anything his genes were doing, and, considering his wife's present state of mind, he also figured it wouldn't get him very far to point out that she (and presumably her genes) was the more stubborn of the two of them. He also decided not to mention that their baby was probably not even the size of an orange at present and was unlikely to have the intent to deprive Lois of anything, because that just might get him killed just now. Given that Lois had just been denied both coffee and chocolate, he figured discretion was the better part of valor and forbore from commenting at all.

Instead, he hopped out of the car and walked around to help Lois up the walk. When he noticed how slowly she was staggering up the walk and the yawn she tried to stifle behind her hand, he realized she was exhausted and glanced up at the sky with a frown, noting the overcast day.

In the last month, Lois and he had formed a few conclusions about the peculiarities of her particular pregnancy. Among them was a greater understanding of the way her internal "battery" charged, to use the analogy with which they generally referred to the situation. Sunlight did a great deal to take the edge off some of the unfortunate side effects that came in a normal pregnancy. It helped morning sickness fade, and it also helped with the weariness that was common in this stage of pregnancy. Furthermore, they'd realized that direct sunlight was best – when Lois spent a good deal of time outside on a cloudless day, she seemed to have almost none of the side effects of pregnancy at all. Her battery, so to speak, would still charge on a cloudy day, but the charge would not be nearly as effective. She might not be _as _weary on those days, for example, but she would still tire more easily than she once would.

The biggest adjustment they had to make, however, was also possibly the greatest drawback to her body's reaction to sunlight: her internal battery might charge to different degrees, depending on the weather, and there was absolutely no warning before it became completely depleted. She would seem to be completely fine one moment and crash the next. He supposed that there might be incremental decreases in her physical strength, but it was hard to know for sure because they had yet to accurately predict a crash enough to test out the theory beforehand. From everything they had been able to tell, she'd be energetic one second, able to lift a car above her head with one hand, and the next, she'd be almost unconscious as exhaustion slammed into her, her strength that of a normal human or even possibly less.

It would seem that such a moment was upon them. Wrapping his arm around his wife's waist, he escorted Lois into the house and helped her inside before scooping her in his arms and carrying her upstairs. She was asleep even before he placed her gently on the bed. Though he noticed with some dismay that the bed was bare of any sheets or blankets, he didn't want to risk disturbing her in order to make the bed. As the room was fairly warm, he contented himself with adjusting the pillow under her head and leaving her in peace. Knowing that she could be asleep for a while, Clark brushed a kiss across her forehead and left the room, closing the door softly behind him. There were a number of chores he wanted to take care of before she awoke, including a run to the grocery store, though he was going to have to check the pantry first to see what they needed.

A couple of hours later, Clark whistled softly as he strolled into the kitchen and put the grocery bags down on the counter. He didn't know when and how often Ben came by to check on the house, so he glanced around to make sure that he was unobserved before racing around the kitchen at top speed to put the four bags of groceries away. Then he resumed his tuneless whistle as he jogged upstairs to check on Lois.

When he threw open the bedroom door, he came upon an unexpected and perhaps inexplicable scene. Lois was standing in a patch of sunlight beside the bed, her face flushed, the hair falling across her shoulders damp, obviously naked except for the red cloth wrapped half-hazardly around her. She had clearly just emerged from the shower, which was not entirely unexpected. What was rather surprising was that the cloth she had clutched in her hands was adorned with a fairly large and obvious S. Though he dimly noticed an unusual smell permeating the room, this fact didn't register quite as strongly as the fact that, for some reason, Lois was dressed in nothing but his Superman cape.

"Lois…?" he asked in confusion.

"Clark?" she squeaked in dismay. "I-I…I was…"

He noticed suddenly that except for the momentary flush on her cheeks that had appeared as he entered the room, the color had fled from her face. Her features were pinched and drawn, her eyes wide, the lips that were pressed tightly together trembling slightly. She looked scared, but he didn't have time to wonder why for long. Behind him, his superior hearing picked up a heavy footfall on the stairs. Someone had arrived at the house, and since he didn't think his mom was expected for a couple hours yet, he figured it was very likely to be Ben Hubbard. If Clark didn't act fast, the newcomer might stumble across the scene and wonder what Lois Lane-Kent was doing wearing nothing but Superman's cape. It would be, to put it lightly, both embarrassing for her and nearly impossible to explain.

She was still trying to stammer out an explanation when Clark rushed forward. Looking around desperately, he didn't see a towel or any other immediate form of cover. The footsteps were getting pretty close, so he acted unthinkingly. Throwing open his closet door, Clark ushered Lois quickly inside, scooting in after her before closing the door quietly behind them. As they stood together in the dark, their bodies pressed tightly together in the cramped space with the harsh rasp of her breath in his ear, it occurred to him that it probably would have made more sense to remain outside to provide cover; he had no reason at present to hide. Unfortunately, it was too late to do so now; the footsteps had entered the room.

"What…?" Lois began in bewilderment, her voice sounding rather loud in the enclosed space. In an attempt to prevent her from continuing and unintentionally giving their position away, Clark did perhaps not the _only _thing he could do but certainly the _preferred _option. He framed her face in his hands and kissed her.

This was the picture they made when the closet door was flung open – Lois, naked except for what was quite clearly Superman's cape, the fabric clutched in her hands, standing pressed tightly against her husband, who was kissing her rather more passionately than the situation necessitated (Lois and Clark had long since stopped being able to exchange any kiss that was strictly utilitarian in nature, even when it would perhaps be wise to do so). As soon as he realized that they had been discovered, Clark turned and tried to shield Lois behind him as his brain worked quickly to try to invent an even halfway-plausible explanation.

His task became even more difficult when he realized that it wasn't Ben Hubbard who had stumbled across the scene but his mother instead. True, she needed no explanation for the cape, but, then again, her knowledge of his secret identity made the scene particularly incriminating. Of course, that Lois and Clark had a healthy sexual relationship couldn't be a surprise, but she didn't generally occupy a front-row seat to what appeared to be the foreplay. The look of surprise and dismay on Martha's face was almost comical, and though he wanted to reassure her that she wasn't seeing what she thought she was seeing, he couldn't quite untangle his tongue and his face, he knew, had flushed a dark red. Lois didn't seem to be faring any better, if the spluttering sounds she made behind him were any indication.

"I…uh…I was just going to…grab some sheets," his mom murmured in embarrassment. "I didn't mean to…interrupt." She was blushing now herself; between the three of them, Clark didn't think the level of mortification in the room could possibly be any higher.

"I-it isn't…" Clark began.

"…what you think!" Lois finished for him when his tongue tied itself into knots again.

Martha murmured a noncommittal sound of agreement. "I'll…uh…see you downstairs," she finally said hastily and closed the door on them once more. Clark could hear her footsteps hastily retreat, and as soon as he heard the bedroom door close behind her, he and Lois tumbled out of the closet.

"Why me?" Lois was moaning behind him, her mortification only matched by his own. "Why does this keep happening to me?"

He certainly sympathized with her feelings, but before he returned to the kitchen to explain the situation to his mom, he wanted to understand it himself. A frown of confusion marred his features as he looked around, trying to find the suitcases he'd brought upstairs and placed just inside the room earlier while Lois had been napping. He knew Lois would want was to get dressed; then they would talk for a few minutes before going downstairs to face his mom in what would undoubtedly be an extremely awkward and painful situation for everyone involved.

When he didn't see the suitcases immediately, he began, "Lois, have you seen the…?" Then he saw them. Or, rather, he saw what he presumed to have once been two suitcases full of clothes. They were lying open on the floor, but they were completely charred, all of their contents destroyed. "What the…?"

"I-it was…there was…I was…," Lois broke off with a moan, and he turned to look at her in concern. "There was a fire," she said in an uneven voice as the trembling in her lower lip intensified.

Clark took her shoulders in his hands and rubbed them in a comforting gesture as he asked gently, "A fire?"

Lois gave a jerky nod. "I-I'm pretty sure I started it." Then, with a shaky breath, she started to explain. "When I woke up from my nap, I decided to take a shower and get dressed while I put our clothes away. I-I unpacked your suit first, of course." It was common practice that, any time they travelled with a Superman suit in their luggage, they always unpacked it first and hid it in a secure place so that they didn't risk being caught with it in their luggage if anything unexpected happened. "But then, I…I was…I don't know how it happened, but…"

Clark met her eyes as Lois tried to explain, her voice trembling. In an instant, he knew how the luggage had caught fire; his wife's hazel eyes had taken on a red tinge that was deepening with every second as she became increasingly distressed. Moving quickly, he slapped his hand across her eyes, and he knew he'd acted just in time when he felt a sudden heat press against his palm. Lois had apparently developed his power of heat vision.

Lois may not have understood what was happening to her – he had certainly been taken by surprise when he'd first developed heat vision – but she clearly could feel that there was something unusual happening to her body because she called out his name in alarm.

"It's okay," he said soothingly. Before he even thought about how he would approach helping her gain control of her powers, he had to get her to calm down. "Lois, honey, you've got heat vision, okay? Everything's going to be fine, but for right now, I need you to close your eyes." She made a squeak of alarm, so he repeated firmly but calmly, "Honey, close your eyes."

When the heat against his palm subsided, he knew she'd closed her eyes so he removed his hand and wrapped her in his arms, tucking her face against his neck as he rubbed her back soothingly. "That's it," he murmured. "Just keep them closed for a few minutes; everything's going to be fine." After several minutes passed in which he continued to murmur similarly comforting things, he felt her relax in his arms. "Do your eyes still feel hot?" he asked gently.

A moment's pause, and then she gave her head a tiny shake. "I don't think so," she mumbled against his shoulder.

"Okay," he said as he moved slightly away from her and framed her face in his hands, tilting it back so that he could look at the eyes she still had squeezed tightly shut. "Go ahead and open your eyes, honey." She hesitated, and he had to assure her once again that everything would be fine before he did as he asked. When her eyes met his, he noticed that her hazel eyes were once more clear of any red tint. At her tremulous smile, he gave her an encouraging nod. "It's better now," he affirmed for her. "Tell me what happened?"

Lois heaved a heavy sigh. "Like I said, I was going to put the clothes away and get dressed. I'd put your suit aside so I could put it away, but I hadn't yet gotten to anything else. I was feeling a bit nauseated, so I opened the windows to let some sunlight in. Then I-I'm not sure what happened. My eyes started to burn and…and the luggage caught fire. I had to use the towel I was wearing to try to put it out, but then _that _got ruined. I finally managed to put the fire out, but by that time, all our clothes were ruined and the only thing I had left was your suit. When I heard you coming…" She let her voice trail off, but he understood. She hadn't known who was approaching, so she'd grabbed the first thing she could find to shield herself, and it just happened to be his cape.

Clark nodded his understanding, though her story gave him another cause of concern. "Did you get burned?" he asked anxiously, grabbing her free hand in his and looking it over. Her skin was completely unblemished, and he felt his shoulders sag in relief. She'd either been very fortunate not to get burned by accident, or…or she was invulnerable as well. Come to think of it, he couldn't remember the last time she'd injured herself in one of her various death-defying stunts, though even with his assistance she'd been known to get bumps, scrapes, and bruises on a fairly regular basis. Had she just been really lucky for a while now, or had the least overt of his powers kicked in a while ago and, due to the nature of the power and the fact that neither Lois nor Clark _tried _to cause her an injury, nobody had noticed? "Lois, when was the last time you can remember getting a physical injury?" He couldn't remember having seen any bruise on her for a while, now that he thought about it.

"Huh?" Lois asked, thrown by the question. Looking down at her body – though it was still covered fairly well by the silky red fabric and thus she couldn't see anything – she frowned and said slowly, "I…I don't remember."

So invulnerability was a possibility. They would talk about that later, but for the moment, he needed to find out what had triggered her heat vision if he was going to figure out how to teach her to control it. "What were you thinking about when your eyes started to burn?" he asked, and by the look on her face, he could tell that she was getting completely flummoxed by his abrupt changes in conversation.

"I…uh…I was…I don't remember," she hedged, causing him to stare intently at her face. He had a feeling she _did _remember, but for some reason, she didn't want to tell him. Feeling torn, he didn't know if he should press her further. When it came to concerns, worries, and the like, Lois and he had a very open and honest relationship; however, neither of them felt an automatic sense of entitlement to the other's thoughts. He did feel strongly that Lois had a right to her privacy (just as she felt that he had a right to his), but at the same time, if he didn't know the nature of her thoughts, he would never figure out the trigger to her heat vision.

Though he suspected her trigger was different, given the situation, he decided it would be a good idea to at least check. "Were you…ah…thinking of…er…were you excited in any way?"

His wife looked at him in surprise, and then the corners of her mouth started to twitch. "You mean, was I thinking about jumping you when you got back?"

Her evident amusement made him feel sheepish. Ducking his head, he ran a hand through his hair and mumbled, "It was just a thought."

"The thought had occurred to me," she confessed affectionately as she brushed a kiss across his cheek. "Just not at that moment. If you want to know the truth, I was feeling…_emotional_." She spat the word out as if it were distasteful.

Seeing the expression on his face, she elaborated, "I was just…thinking about things. Nothing in particular, but I was…" As she started to explain, he heard the level of tension increase in her tone. "I was just thinking about…about things and getting a little worried…not about anything in particular, just in general. I don't even really know why I was getting so worked up; it was silly, really, in retrospe-Clark!" She cried out his name in dismay as she squeezed her eyes shut a moment too late. Clark felt the sudden heat against his chest, saw a glimpse of the redness of her eyes, and knew that her heat vision had been triggered once again.

It seemed that emotional stress of some sort was the trigger for her heat vision, he reflected as he pulled her against his chest again and resumed the process of calming her down. In some respects, this made her heat vision rather more difficult than his own. A different type of excitement had triggered his heat vision, when he was a teenager, and while boys of that age were struck by that type of _excitement _on a fairly regular basis, it had been fairly easy for Clark to get control of himself and his powers. It had been a long time since he had been given cause to worry that he might set fire to something when struck by a (for lack of a better word) _romantic_ mood; if his heat vision was yet so unpredictable, Lois likely would have gone up in flames the moment he'd thrown open the bedroom door and seen her in his cape and nothing else.

The problem for Lois was that emotional stress was not something she was going to be able to avoid or even necessarily control. Clark was the first to admit that he knew precious little about what happened to a woman during pregnancy, but he had heard numerous stories about how emotional pregnant women could be. Lois had scoffed at the idea that she would ever be driven to uncontrollable fits of emotion brought on by the hormones that were (as far as Clark had heard) rather out of control during certain stages of pregnancy, and he supposed she had reason to hope that the peculiarities of her pregnancy might cause her to avoid such fits. However, if sunlight wasn't the cure-all she obviously hoped it would be, Clark could foresee quite a few moments of emotional stress ahead – and as emotional stress triggered her heat vision, things could get incredibly dangerous. Considering what lay before them, helping Lois maintain control of her heat vision would likely be a continuous process throughout her pregnancy.

As she seemed to have calmed down in the last few minutes, Clark pulled back a bit and explained his thinking to her. "Lois, I think stress triggers your heat vision. We'll find a way to get control of your power, but it's going to take a little practice, okay?" When she nodded, he smiled warmly at her. "It's going to be okay, sweetheart. I think we should probably talk to my mom first, so she knows what's going on, but then we'll go out to the barn and practice a little bit. You can stay calm for the next hour or so, right?"

"Oh, yes," she said dryly, evoking a laugh out of him. "Because I'm so known for being level-headed. Piece of cake."

Though he was still chuckling, he said reassuringly, "It's not going to be as hard as you think. If you start feeling stressed or if your eyes start to burn, just close your eyes and take a few deep breaths until you calm down again. We only need to get through the next hour or so, and then I promise you we'll go outside and practice." He didn't feel entirely confident that it would in fact be as easy as he was saying, but this was definitely a situation in which Lois needed him to be confident that he could help get her through. Clark remembered how scared he'd been when he first discovered he had heat vision, and he didn't know how he ever would have gotten through it if his father hadn't been – or at least seemed to be – so calm and confident that they would both find a way to get it under control. Lois needed him to do the same thing for her now.

"Okay," she agreed, and whether she actually believed that he was as confident as he sounded or whether she was simply willing to put her faith in him, she did manage to give him a smile that appeared to be almost genuine. "I guess we should go talk to your mom, only…"

"Yes?" he prompted when she trailed off.

Blushing slightly, she said, "Do you think you could find me some clothes? I really don't think I should go downstairs like this. I'm pretty sure trying to explain to your mom that I'm both pregnant and super-powered while I'm practically naked is probably going to be just a little stressful on some level."

It took a few minutes, but Clark finally managed to find in storage some clothes that might fit. Later that evening, he figured he'd fly back to Metropolis to grab some necessary supplies and a few outfits to replace the ones that had been burned. For now, however, she would probably be able to make due with an old pair of his jeans that had tears in the knees and one of his mom's old faded blue blouses. Then, linking their fingers together, they walked downstairs hand-in-hand.

The first few moments were excruciating, but things rapidly improved to being merely mildly painful. There was some degree of finesse required to even bring up the subject; he wasn't about to stand in his mother's kitchen and exclaim that he and Lois hadn't been engaged in any role-playing form of foreplay leading up to a sexual interlude while hiding inside his boyhood bedroom closet. He seriously doubted Lois would want to do likewise, either, so the very chore of bringing up the subject was rather uncomfortable, to say the least.

They ended up having to bite the bullet and tag team in order to plunge ahead. "Mrs. Kent," Lois began awkwardly before the woman in question cut her off.

"You know you can call me Mom sweetheart," Martha said kindly.

"Er…right…well, I was just going to say…M-Mom…that…uh…" Lois stammered.

Throwing his wife a lifeline, Clark interjected, "About the scene upstairs it's not…uh…"

"It's okay, you guys!" Martha said warmly, though she too was clearly feeling distinctly uncomfortable with the conversation at hand. "You don't need to explain anything. I know that you guys have a very…ah…_loving _relationship."

This was getting to be unbearable, Clark reflected as he felt sweat stand out on his forehead. "Um…well, that's true, but not…um…not normally inside closets."

This was, perhaps that was not the best thing to say, as dead silence fell in the room and nobody was able to quite manage looking anyone else in the eye. Finally, the silence was broken by Lois letting out a splitting cough. "Marth…Mom, the thing is…we weren't…we were hiding in the closet, actually. I'm…er…oh, hell! I think this will get a lot easier if I just show you instead of prolonging the torture while Clark and I try to find the right words to explain."

Walking purposefully into the living room, Lois stooped and hooked one arm underneath the edge of the couch. Then she stood, lifting the couch on one hand. "See, I-I have some of Clark's powers right now, but they're a little unpredictable. Right before you came in, I'd accidentally set fire to our luggage, and I-I didn't really have anything else to wear."

Martha looked understandably shocked. "But how…?" she asked as Lois put the couch on the ground gently and then returned to Clark's side. "How did you…?" his mom tried again.

Clark looked at his wife to see if she wanted to explain or if he should do so, willing to take his cue silently from her. When she nodded at him with a smile, his face broke into a wide grin, his joy unable to be contained any longer. "It's a side effect, actually, which is a little hard to explain because we're still trying to figure out how it really works. But, Mom, we have something we need to tell you. Lois and I…we-we're going to have a baby!"

His words were met with a few seconds of shocked silence and then a flurry of activity. His mom didn't seem to know who to hug first, so she embraced them both and then each of them individually before grabbing them both in a hug again. There was laughter and rapid-fire questions only half-formed before the answers tumbled over each other in a flood of excited explanations.

Eventually, Martha laughed and suggested they sit at the kitchen table to explain the situation in a calmer and more reasonable manner. As they took their places around the table, his mom put on a pot of coffee while his wife grabbed the carton of juice out of the fridge and, scowling, poured herself a glass. Once everything was settled, Martha prompted, "So…tell me everything. Do you know how far along you are? What powers do you have, and how long have you had them? And what do you mean by side effect?"

They started at the beginning, answering all of Martha's questions. Lois divulged how she'd learned of the pregnancy and then explained how her strength and heat vision had developed, and Clark added that he suspected she was invulnerable as well but that they hadn't yet determined this for certain. Then he told his mom about his trip to the Fortress, how he'd spoken to Lara and later come to realize that Lois's powers were a side effect of the pregnancy. They finished by explaining the analogy of Lois's solar "battery" and how it was both impacted by the weather and tended to drain without warning.

At the end of their story, Martha turned to Lois and asked the million dollar question. "And how are you doing with all this, sweetheart? I can only imagine how you must feel right now; how are you handling all of this?"

Lois smiled. "I'm okay. I'm excited. Overjoyed, really. It is a lot to take in all at once, and I'm not entirely sure…" She looked between Martha and Clark. "I've been reading up on what to expect in a normal pregnancy, and it's just…it seems a bit…well, it's a lot to take in."

Clark squeezed his wife's hand, but then he caught the expression on his mom's face out of the corner of his eye. She was giving him a significant look which took him a moment to understand. The conversation was about to be diverted into Female Territory, a strange and inexplicable land to the males of any species. In fact, the upcoming conversation was probably one of the main reasons why Lois wanted to tell his mom first. It wasn't that his mom was trying to get rid of him, but he understood that both his mom and his wife would probably be more comfortable discussing issues like the imminent changes in Lois's body if he wasn't in the room. Come to think of it, he would probably be more comfortable as well. As neither of them would ever ask him to leave, it was up to him to do so if he chose.

He did, in fact. "You know, um, I think I'm going to go take a walk around the farm, see what Ben's been up to since we left. I should also go grab some things from our apartment before it gets too much later. I'll…er…be back in a bit." As he darted out the door, he told himself consolingly that, once again, his actions could not be described as "fleeing" by any stretch of the imagination – because that, of course, would have been undignified.

When he returned to the farm a couple of hours later, his mom told him that Lois had gone back upstairs to bed again, having been too overcome by one of her sudden fits of exhaustion to be able to deal with her newly acquired heat vision that evening. Rather than disturb her, he joined his mom on the porch with a cup of coffee, where they sat on the swing to watch the sun set over the fields that had once been as familiar to him as the back of his hand.

As the sky shifted from pink to a dusky purple, he finally broke the silence by saying contemplatively. "You know, while I was on my walk earlier, I remembered how much I really loved growing up here. I love living in Metropolis; don't get me wrong, but sometimes I miss this place."

His mom smiled. "I know what you mean. Sometimes Washington can be a little overwhelming and I can't help but daydream about sitting quietly on this porch the way I used to."

"You thinking of moving back?" he asked lightly. It was a subject they hadn't talked about in a while, and he was curious to know if her answer had changed.

It hadn't. "No," she said softly, the grief that hadn't entirely abated over the years evident in her voice. "It just isn't the same here with your father gone. There's just so much of him here. It hurts sometimes to stay and remember, but at the same time, there's too much left of him here to let it go." Clark looked at her in understanding, and then his mom murmured, "I wish he could have been here today. He would have been so happy for you both."

"I wish he could have been here, too," Clark admitted, his musings bittersweet. "There are so many things I wish I could ask him. Ever since Lois told me she was pregnant, I…I can't help wondering if I'm going to be any good at this – being a dad, I mean. Dad was…he was the best father I could ever have asked for. Both of you were amazing parents. I don't know how you did it." There were times when he pondered how his life might have been different if he had been found by people who were less honorable or people for whom the fear of what he could do outweighed their love for him. There were so many people, he knew, who would never have been able to handle raising a child with super powers; Clark lacked the words to say how thankful he was every day that he had been found by Jonathan and Martha Kent and that they'd loved him as their own. He knew, looking back on his life, that he hadn't always made it terribly easy on them, but they'd never turned away from him or acted as if they regretted the choice they'd made when they'd taken him home.

"Oh, Clark, you're going to be a wonderful father," his mom interjected. "You have grown up to be such an amazing man; your father and I couldn't have wished for more."

"But how did you do it?" he pressed, turning to his mother. "It couldn't have been easy, and I know I didn't always make it any easier for you. When I think about the baby, I'm…I couldn't possibly be happier. I feel so many things, I can't even…But there's a part of me that's terrified. What if I can't keep Lois and our baby safe? What if I'm not very good at this? Dad was so amazing, whenever I found I had a new power or when I-I made some terrible decisions when I was a teenager. But he…he stood by me, even when I was terrible to him; when I was scared because I didn't know what was happening to me, he always knew just what to say. What if I can't do that? What if my son or daughter comes to me and I don't know the right thing to say or what to do?" There was a brief pause, and then he finished softly, "Lois and the baby…what if I let them down because I don't know the exact right thing to do?"

The look of love on his mom's face was both familiar and comforting, but he was surprised to see a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Oh, honey," she said warmly. "Can I tell you a secret? You're never going to know the exact right thing to do. There are going to be times when you're going to be scared because your child wants to know what's happening or going to happen and you won't know what to say. The will also be times when your son or daughter is going to make you want to tear your hair out in frustration and you won't know what to do.

"If there's one thing I can tell you with absolute certainty, it's that you cannot predict anything when it comes to being a parent. For every thing that you know to prepare for in advance, there are a million surprises in store that you can't even begin to imagine. And as hard as you try, sweetheart, you're never going to get absolutely everything right; you will occasionally do the exact wrong thing."

Clark's stomach had plummeted and for the life of him, he couldn't imagine why she'd seem to be somewhat amused by this prospect. "Is there a happy ending to this story?" he asked weakly.

Martha chuckled. "Of course there is, and here's the happy ending: It's going to be fine. You're going to make mistakes sometimes, and there will be times when you just don't know what to do. But in the end, everything will be okay. If you want to know your father's and my secret, it's that we had no better idea than you do how to handle all this. There were times – like when you told us you'd been floating in your sleep – that we didn't have the first clue what to tell you."

"But you always said the right thing!" he protested. "How did you –?"

"Because we loved you, Clark. That's the secret. Sometimes we didn't know what to do, and sometimes we were scared, but absolutely everything we did, we did with the knowledge of how much we loved you and each other. There were things that we did wrong. I think, in retrospect, that we may have been a little _too _careful about keeping your secret, and there were times when I know that you found our decisions a little stifling. But everything we did, we did with the thought of how much we loved you and that we wanted what was best for you, how very much we wanted you to be happy. If you keep that in mind, I think you'll find that everything will be okay. You'll find that you'll do a number of things right and a number of things wrong, but the mistakes you make won't be unforgivable. You and Lois will work through these things together. The both are going to be wonderful parents, I know. It won't always be easy, I'm sure, but if anyone can handle the challenge, it's the two of you."

Her words had not entirely relieved his anxiety, but he did find her honesty comforting. "You seem to have an awful lot of faith in us," he said jokingly.

"I have cause," she replied in a similarly light tone. "In my defense, the two of you have yet to let me down. Just look at how you're both handling the rather unexpected development of Lois's powers. I think when and if your son or daughter develops powers of their own, you're going to be able to take it in stride."

Then, her tone growing slightly more serious, she reached out and took his hand. "Sweetheart, I know you're scared. The both of you are, and it's understandable. Any pregnancy is terrifying, and this is anything but a regular pregnancy. Of course you know that Lois is afraid that the fact that she isn't showing yet is proof that she's getting the pregnancy itself wrong, and you're both afraid that you're going to make mistakes that your child is going to have to pay for. Just remember that being a parent is something that you take a day at a time. If you never lose sight of how much you love each other, I think you'll find that there are few mistakes that you can make that you cannot fix."

Clark was surprised by part of his mom's admission. He knew she would never divulge a confidence; she clearly thought that he knew that Lois was afraid of getting the pregnancy itself wrong, if that was somehow possible. This was the first time he'd heard anything of the sort, however, though it did put his conversation with Lois earlier in the week in a rather different perspective. For a second, he was torn, wondering whether he should press his mom for more information and whether he should ask Lois about it later or let her tell him when and if she decided to do so – if it was even still a concern for her. Her fears could very well have been allayed during her conversation with his mom.

Before he could decide one way or another, the peaceful tranquility of the evening was shattered by a high pitched ring Clark recognized as coming from Lois's cell phone. Though he heard her footfalls as she scrambled downstairs to grab it before it went to voicemail, he stood and walked back into the house, thinking he would ask her how she was feeling once she was off the phone.

"Hey, Perry," he heard her say as he walked into the kitchen, where he found his wife, her hair pulled up into a sloppy ponytail, dressed in the same clothes she'd been wearing earlier, leaning against the counter as she talked on the phone. He returned the grin she threw him when she saw him walk into the room, but then he felt an inexplicable rush of dread when he heard who she was talking to on the other end of the line. There was no reason for him to feel a certain sense of foreboding, just because their editor was calling them fairly late on a Friday evening. Perry had been known to call them at any time of the day or night, when news was breaking that he needed them to cover. Still, Clark couldn't resist moved closer to Lois, just in case.

Apparently oblivious to his concern, Lois continued speaking, and though Clark could easily listen in on the other end of the conversation, he didn't. He knew that if his suspicions were correct, he would know soon enough, even if only through her side of the conversation. "No, it's okay," she said. "We just decided to drive down to visit Clark's mom this weeke…Yeah, we were…What…?" When he saw her face fall, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. From the glance she threw him, he could tell that she didn't entirely share his sense of dread but she, too, felt that there was something foreboding in the air.

"Yes, I suppose we could come back to Metropolis. It'll take us a little while, though," she said into the telephone as she tucked her body against his side. "No, we haven't…Contact Superman? I suppose we could find a way to…yes, sir. Of course. But why…? A photograph?"

There it was. It had been lurking in the back of their minds for months now, the knowledge that there existed somewhere a photograph that showed Superman bearing a wedding ring and the fear that someone less trustworthy than Perry would find it, and now it seemed that their fear would be realized. Though he felt her hand begin to tremble at his side, he was impressed with the evenness of her voice as she continued speaking.

"But I don't understand, Perry. What's the big deal about…Well, I figured it had to do with Superman, but…A wedding ring? Oh…Yes…Do you know who has it? … I see…No, no, this is definitely a story we want to handle…Of course not. We'll head back right away."

The phone clattered to the ground as soon as the call ended, but before Lois could say a word, he wrapped her in his arms. He didn't know who was shaking more – her or himself. "Who has it?" he murmured into her hair as she clutched him tightly.

Her voice was muffled against his neck as she replied. "Nobody knows yet. Perry's just heard about a bidding war going on. He thinks someone will have it by tomorrow, so he wants us to break the story for the morning edition."

"Good. We'll have a little more control over the story if the Planet breaks it first." It wasn't much, but it was something.

Lois clearly wasn't buying it. "More control?" she demanded, pulling away from him, though he noticed her eyes were taking on a faint red tinge as she argued, "Are you kidding? There's no controlling this! This thing is going to snowball out of control the second after it's released! Do you have any idea how much speculation is going to be running rampant, how many conspiracy theorists are going to come up with crackpot theories about who Superman is married to and who he should be married to and so on? There's nothing we can do to control anything, and even if we try, it'll probably make everything worse! From now on, people are going to be trying to track down Superman's wife, and that means watching the women they know he's closest to…and that means they'll be watching me very, very closely. Do you honestly think it'll take them very long to turn their attention to you?"

That he knew she was right didn't make him feel any better. "I know," he admitted as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "But what do you want me to do?" The stress and worry had injected a note if irritation in his question that its recipient didn't deserve, he knew.

"I don't know," she admitted, and she sounded so helpless that it made Clark feel weak."I don't know," she repeated. "I'm just scared. I don't know…I don't know how we're going to get through this. If it was just me, I wouldn't…but now…"

He understood what she was trying to say. He would have been terrified enough if it was only Lois and his mom whose lives were at risk by this news hitting the press, but it wasn't. There was also the baby to think about, and that changed everything.

But what was the alternative? To lie? He'd sworn long ago that Superman would never lie, but it seemed now that he might not have a choice. To protect the people he loved, it might come down to doing something he'd never wanted to do, but what would a lie of that nature really mean? Would he have to deny Lois and his love for her? Would he have to pretend that he was married to someone else? Could he do that? He'd never faced this choice until now; he'd never proclaimed that Superman was single (at least not since the first time Lois had interviewed him, and back then, it had been the truth), but then again, he'd never had to. The world saw what it expected to see – he depended on that, actually, every time he relied upon his feeble disguise in order to lead a normal life. Nobody seemed to think Superman had a private life, let alone that he could meet, date, and marry someone without the world seeing him do so first-hand. It seemed like this would no longer be the case.

"Maybe…maybe I can find a way to admit that I'm married but somehow hide the identity of the woman I'm married to," he suggested feebly, knowing that an evasive non-answer would only encourage people to keep digging until they found out the truth. "Or I could…well, not _lie_, but maybe I could subtly encourage them to believe what they want to about the identity of the woman I'm married to and never really confirm or deny if what they end up believing is true."

Lois looked pained, though he noticed that the red tinge in her eyes had faded. She had either calmed down or she was learning on her own how to maintain control of the emotions that could lead to a possible disaster otherwise. Sounding wounded, she asked, "So you'll let them think that you're…that maybe you and Diana…and if they ask…?"

Clark winced; he should have realized her mind would immediately go to Diana Prince. Occasionally, gossip columnists would become enamored of the idea of finding the so-called "Perfect Mate" for Superman, and almost invariably, Wonder Woman was at the top of the list. So could Clark lie and pretend he didn't love Lois? Could he pretend that he loved someone else, someone like Diana, someone the world would likely expect a man like Superman to marry?

Clenching his jaw, Clark reached under his shirt and gave a vicious yank to the chain around his neck. When it broke in his hand, he pulled the golden band off the broken chain and slipped it on the third finger of his left hand. Then, meeting his wife's eyes, he grabbed her left hand in his and lifted them both so she could see the two rings glinting side-by side. "You're my wife," he said determinedly, "I don't know how we're going to get through this, exactly; we'll take it a day at a time and we'll find a way. If anyone can find a way to make this work, it's us. But I love you. I love _you_, and I'm not going to let the world think there's anyone else in this world I'd ever choose over you."

Lois gave a weak laugh. "But, sweetheart, you can't let the world know that I'm the woman you love, remember? It's kinda why we've been keeping it a secret for so long."

"I know," he admitted heavily. "I'll admit that it'll be hard to announce to the world that I love you and only you without letting the world know who you are, but I'll find a way to do it."

"No," his wife said as she stepped forward, wrapping him in her arms again. "_We'll _do it. Together."

Though he had to close his eyes against the wave of sickening terror about what could happen if the world found out that Superman was married to Lois Lane and the two of them were about to have a child together, he clutched her to him, for once not having to worry about hurting her as he held her as close and as tightly as he felt like he needed to. There had never before been a situation that the two of them together couldn't handle, but the danger looming ahead seemed so much greater than anything they'd ever encountered in the past.

Still, he clutched desperately to the woman who meant the world to him, the one person that he wasn't sure he could live without, the love of his life, who was now in danger because of him. Standing there in the middle of the kitchen that had been the setting for so many of the pivotal moments in his life, Clark held tight to the woman he loved before he once again faced circumstances that threatened to tear them apart and whispered, "Together."


	6. Peace Talks Stall as Tensions Escalate

**A/N:** This is unbetad but I wanted to get it up. I'm making a concerted effort to update all stories before classes start on Monday! Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys it...I brought in just a little bit more of comics!Lana into my previous depiction of Lana in YoaR, but I think it still is IC for her. And I'm bracing myself for the rage against her that I know is coming!

**PEACE TALKS STALL AS TENSIONS ESCALATE IN OCCUPIED ZONE** _Article by Lois Lane_

"Oh, Lois, please tell me you're not really going to read all that!" Clark said with a groan as he dropped the bag he'd been carrying on the floor next to his desk and fell back into his chair. He'd come in to work slightly late, only to find his wife with a stack of newspapers in front of her and a dangerous glint in her eye.

"Hm?" she asked as she glanced up from the paper she held open in front of her. Seeing the look on her husband's face, she explained, "Of course I am! It's interesting!" and turned her attention back to the paper.

"Right," he agreed flatly, and then he sighed and glared at the large blue and white "Metropolis Star" logo on the top of the page as she turned it over. Underneath it in big black text were the words "Who Is Superman's Bride?" Seeing the slight narrowing of his wife's eyes as she read, he ran a hand through his hair and mumbled, "You say it's interesting, and yet somehow I get the feeling that there's no way this is going to end well for me."

Several weeks had passed since the Daily Planet had run the photograph of Superman with a wedding ring on a chain around his neck. It came as no surprise at all that in that time, every paper in the world – from the most respectable to the least reputable – had speculated on the origin of the ring in question. A day didn't go by that there wasn't at least one story speculating on the superhero's love life, and as Superman, he'd taken to avoiding the press or offering a simple "no comment" to the endless litany of questions. Frankly, Clark was getting a little sick of it all, but since he and Lois had yet to find a solution to their dilemma, he supposed he would have to tolerate the stories for a while longer.

Sadly, Lois didn't seem to have managed quite his equanimity on the issue – something which couldn't come as a surprise to anyone who was aware of her general temperament. She tried to laugh all the speculation off, but invariably, it would only serve to annoy her. Actually to say that the stories "annoyed" her was probably being charitable. Even before the pregnancy, she'd had moments when she found it hard to have her husband be the subject of so much speculation, and it seemed that pregnancy – and the hormonal imbalances that came with it – was not helping matters. He could see the signs of her increasing irritation now, and it was with resignation that he prepared himself to her thinly veiled ire for the rest of the day.

"Oh, would you look at this?" she cried from across the table. "They've set up a website where people can speculate about the identity of Superman's wife! I think I'll check it out!" she said in an overly-bright tone as she turned toward her computer.

Clark winced and grabbed his notebook, idly flipping through the pages as he began to wonder if it wouldn't be too obvious if he set his desk on fire in an attempt to distract Lois from her current task. He rather wished he could beat his head against the desk in frustration, but sadly, all that would accomplish would be an all-too revealing splintering of wood. As he heard her mutter something under her breath about people having too much time on their hands if writing on message boards was the best thing they could think of to do, he comforted himself with the thought that at least things weren't likely to get worse.

"Uh…CK? The staff meeting to discuss the Superman stories is about to get underway, and you've got a visitor," Jimmy said as he passed by the desk, and Clark looked up to see Lana Lang heading his way. Apparently he'd been wrong. But at least the reminder about the staff meeting explained in part why Lois was torturing herself (and consequently him) this morning.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched his wife glance up at the approaching woman, and then Lois's eyes dropped back to her computer screen and he saw her grit her teeth. Yup. There was no way this was going to end well for him.

"Hey, Clark. Lois," Lana greeted with a slightly anxious quaver in her voice and a tremulous smile.

"Lana," Lois said tersely as she looked up at her companion with a perfunctory nod. Then she turned her attention back to the computer screen. "Oh, look! They've got a poll!"

Things were rapidly going from bad to worse, and so Clark tried to intervene. Lois and Lana had never been the closest of friends, but though they'd had their disagreements in the past, they'd come to a sort of understanding after the wedding. Still, Clark knew that Lana Lang was hardly his wife's favorite person in the world, and so her presence in the bullpen at present was not exactly helpful at the moment.

But Clark couldn't just show her to the door without finding out what she wanted. It might be important. So he rose to his feet and perched himself on the edge of his wife's desk – just in case – and then said with a smile, "Hey, Lana. What's up?"

"I came to see you about…uh…about your problem," Lana said meaningfully. "I think I can help!"

For a second, Lois looked almost eager as her gaze shot back to Lana's face, and Clark's voice was distinctly grateful as he blurted, "You can? How?"

Lowering her voice, Lana said earnestly, "You guys need to find a wife for Superman, right?" Clark winced and took a quick look around; somehow, it always came as a surprise to him that so many of his friends had no problem discussing his secret identity in the middle of a room typically filled with reporters. Seemingly oblivious to his concern, Lana continued, "Well…I think we should say it's me."

To his credit, Clark stifled his immediate reaction – an entirely inappropriate burst of laughter. Lois, however, seemed too stunned to react. Her jaw had dropped in amazement, and she spluttered, "Y-you what?"

Lifting a hand to shove a lock of hair behind her ear, Lana repeated, "I think you guys should say it's me. I've been thinking about it, and…Look, I know it's going to be dangerous. Whoever it is that's married to Superman would be a target; I know that. I also know that you aren't going to want to put Lois in danger, but you can't keep dodging the press forever. I'm willing to take the chance, and…"

Clark glanced at Lois to see her eyes squeezed shut as she sucked in a few deep breaths, and he recognized the calming technique she tried to employ when she thought her heat vision was about to fire. "Look, Lana," he said hastily, cutting his ex-girlfriend off. "I appreciate the offer, but this really isn't –"

"Lane! Kent! You guys planning to come to the meeting any day now? I didn't realize when I called a staff meeting that I'd said attendance was optional!" Perry's voice boomed out over the almost empty bullpen.

"Be right there, Chief!" Clark cried rather desperately, trying very hard to maintain control over a situation that was rapidly careening out of his grasp.

Lois seemed oblivious to Perry's cry as her eyes shot open finally and she snapped, "Are you out of your mind! Do you honestly think there's a chance that –?"

Lana looked both confused and a little hurt. "I'm only trying to help!" she protested with wounded dignity.

"And we appreciate that," Clark said hastily. "But I don't think…"

"After all," Lana continued as if Clark hadn't spoken, "You'll need to name someone, won't you? You can't confess that it's you, so who else did you have in mind?"

"We were hoping to be able to avoid lying about it at all," he cut her off. "We've been working on how to do that."

Lana looked momentarily nonplussed. Then she frowned and said in a low voice, "Yeah, but have you had any luck with that? Because it seems to me that you can either confess to your relationship with Lois or you can lie about it. This isn't exactly the situation where you can sit back and hope that nobody asks all the wrong questions. And at least this way, it won't be a complete lie because we…"

Lois had apparently decided to pretend like Lana was no longer there, because she waved her hand as if shrugging off a fly and turned her attention back to the computer screen in front of her. "Would you look at that? It looks like Wonder Woman's the front runner! Well, I guess she would be, wouldn't she, what with being a goddess and all."

Lois gave the mouse button a savage click, cracking its plastic casing, and Clark tried once more to intervene. "Look, this really isn't the time to…"

"Stupid bustiere," his wife continued in a dark voice. "If it weren't for that dumb golden lasso of hers, I bet I could take her." At any other time, that comment would have been comical. Now, however, didn't seem like a particularly good time to point that out.

"Lane! Kent!" Perry bellowed again.

"We're coming, Chief!" Clark cried desperately.

"I don't see why you think it's so impossible that I could –!" Lana began, but Lois continued to pretend to ignore her.

"Huntress!" she cried in disgust instead of responding to Lana's comment. "Like Superman would touch that…!"

"Lana, Lois, I really don't think this is the best time…" Clark tried once more.

"Not the best time?" Lois cried, and this time, the mouse shattered into pieces in her palm. Her voice was high and strained, and the edges of her pupils were starting to glow red. Moving quickly, Clark shifted to block her from Perry's sight as he made ineffectual motions with his hands in an attempt to remind her she needed to remain calm.

Perry's voice carried over them once more, and it was clear that his patience was at an end. "Lois and Clark, I realize that you both think you have something better to do, but if it's not too much of an inconvenience, I have called a staff meeting to order. Now I know the story about Superman's wife has become a little overdone, but it's a big story and we're going to cover it anyway! If the two of you don't…"

Perry didn't get to finish his threat because Lois jumped to her feet, her chair crashing into the desk behind her. Whirling to face Perry, she scooted past her husband and yelled, "I know it's a big story, Chief? Don't you think I know that? It's all anyone even _talks _about anymore! I go to get my coffee in the morning and people ask me who I think it is! I go to grab a paper, and there's two teenage boys in line in front of me, talking about how out-of-this-world hot Mrs. Superman's gotta be because there's no way he would end up with anyone who's less than a 15 out of 10 on a hotness scale! It's all over the place!

"And it's his life! His and…and…and…and whoever he's married to! Has anyone even stopped to wonder how she's feeling right now? Maybe she doesn't want to be the center of all this attention! Maybe she just married the man she loved and didn't sign up for all this speculation and all these people who are crawling out of the woodwork now, willing to pretend they're married to her husband for the notoriety it would get them and never mind the fact that she…_Maybe _she thinks that the world should stop concentrating on who Superman comes home to at night and just concentrate on how happy they are that he's there! That he's not alone; he's found someone. Maybe it's none of our business! Did you ever stop to consider that?"

Clark tried to stop her, but Lois was on a roll and she wasn't paying him any attention. In fact, her mini-rant was so impressive that several reporters had stuck their head out of the conference room now and were staring at Lois in wide-eyed curiosity. She didn't seem to notice.

"And I know we've got a meeting, Chief, but can't you s-see w-we're b-b-busy?" As her rant came to an end, Lois did the unthinkable. Clark had been expecting her to lose control of her heat vision, perhaps set something in the newsroom on fire accidentally. What she actually did was worse – or at least would be considered so in her view. She burst into tears.

Though Lana had started to try to say something from her position beside the desk and several reporters had been whispering back and forth, the entire newsroom fell silent as the first tears started to trail down Lois's cheeks. Everyone stared at the woman who was usually so hard-as-nails in open-mouthed astonishment, as if the sight before them was so astounding that they simply couldn't process it for a moment. And perhaps they couldn't, because the number of people who had ever seen Lois cry could probably be counted on one hand, and Clark was the only one on that list in the room at the moment. Even he was a bit thrown by the public display of vulnerability, so uncharacteristic of her.

Whirling to face him, Lois looked up at him in horror as a pathetic sob escaped her lips, and she waved her hands desperately in front of her face as if the ineffectual motion would somehow stem the tide. It didn't seem to work, and so instead, she stared up at Clark with eyes filled with a mixture of dismay and mortification, silently imploring him to find a way to turn the tears off. He didn't think he'd be any more at a loss if she'd suddenly sprouted wings.

Though he didn't know what to do to stop her from crying, he acted instinctively as soon as he saw the trail of tears down her cheeks. Reaching towards her, he grabbed her gently by the shoulders and pulled her close, wrapping her into his embrace. His head bowed, unconsciously trying to hide her face from view, as he held her tight. In that moment, he found cause to be grateful for the developing powers that had caused such upheaval in their lives, because for once, he could hold her as tight as he wished and not worry about hurting her.

"C-Clark?" Her voice was muffled against his shirt. "What's happening to me?" she demanded, pulling back to look up at him. She was staring at him as if he held all the answers, when in truth, he didn't have the first clue what to do. He could think of tricks to help Lois control her strength, her heat vision, but he didn't have the first idea of how to stop a woman from crying. Even when it was the woman he loved. Perhaps particularly when it was the woman he loved, when she was crying over a hurt he couldn't take away.

When Clark looked up, he saw that Perry looked completely pole-axed. The older man was staring at the scene in front of him as if it were completely alien, entirely beyond the realm of his comprehension. His eyes were wide, his jaw drooped in stupefaction. "Uh…Lois…" he finally began, and Clark didn't know if the halting nature of the normally imperturbable Editor in Chief's words was due to an effort to say just the right thing or an honest inability to process what was going on before his eyes. "Lois, honey, if you're not…uh…feeling up to the meeting, we can…put it off until later or…or something," he finally offered, still looking confused.

"No, I…" Lois tried, her face still buried against Clark's chest. "I…Clark, what's _wrong _with me?" she wailed in the face of her futile effort to speak normally. "Make it stop!"

"I wish I could, Lois," he muttered into her hair. He tilted her head back and looked into her eyes, still wet with tears, her face red from both the force of her sobbing and the utter humiliation he knew she felt at having engaged in such a public display of vulnerability. Well aware of the eyes upon the two of them, Clark murmured so that only she could hear, "Sweetheart, I think all things considered, now would be a good time to let the cat out of the bag." The last thing he wanted was for every reporter at the Planet to think too long and hard about why Lois had gown overly emotional over the reminder of Superman's marital status.

Her face scrunched into a grimace, but she nodded. Pulling a handkerchief out of his suit pocket, he wiped the tears off her face and tucked her against his side protectively. "Everyone, sorry to derail the conversation here, but we have an announcement to make. Lois is feeling just a little emotional right now because she and I are going to have a baby!"

Perry's face melted into a warm paternal smile. The congratulations of their coworkers washed over them, and Clark grinned proudly. "Thank you," he told the group as Lois sniffed pitifully and threw a watery smile at the crowd. Addressing their Editor-in-Chief again, Clark asked, "Would you mind giving us about ten minutes? I think Lois could use some fresh air."

"Not a problem," Perry said, giving Lois a quick hug when she stepped forward. "Congratulations, you two." Glancing around, he surveyed his employees and heaved a resigned sigh, though his eyes were still smiling when he said, "Well, I'm too much of an old newshound to think there's any chance of getting or keeping the attention of a bunch of reporters when they've been hit with breaking news like this. We'll take a fifteen minute break, but then I want everyone in the conference room – on time and ready to go." Clark saw Perry give Lois's arms a gentle squeeze as he said, his gruff tone almost apologetic, "The Superman story is big news."

"I understand, Chief. And thank you," she murmured softly.

Throwing his arm around his wife, Clark bowed his head to brush a light kiss across her temple. "C'mon sweetheart. Let's go take a walk." Turning, he walked with her towards the stairs, avoiding the elevator bay with the big sign stating "Elevators out of service. We apologize the inconvenience" tacked against the wall. He didn't notice as Lana trotted along behind them, as he had temporarily forgotten her presence.

"Thanks, Clark," Lois said, squeezing his hand when they finally reached the lobby. "I don't know what got into me back there."

"You've been under a lot of stress lately, and I read that pregnancy plays havoc with your emotions. I'm sure it'll pass," he told her reassuringly.

"I hope so!" she retorted with an abashed smile. "One more outburst like that and I –"

"You're pregnant?" Lana blurted behind them, causing them to turn in surprise. "I mean, for real? That wasn't just an excuse?"

Clark exchanged a glance with his wife, and then turned his attention back to Lana. In consideration of their past, he softened his tone as he said, "It wasn't an excuse. Lois and I are going to have a baby."

"And you're the father?" Lana blurted again, looking taken aback by the news. To her credit, she grimaced as if she'd realized her gaff a moment later, but it was a few seconds too late.

In a voice that was dangerously soft, Lois asked, "Why, Lana, what are you implying?"

"N-Nothing!' the cornered girl stammered. "I mean, I didn't mean for it to come out that way. I just – I didn't think Clark could have children with – ah – with…"

"Clearly you were wrong," Lois cut in.

Before the situation could escalate, Clark intervened. "Lana, we appreciate your offer, but Lois and I have it covered.

"No wait!" Lana cried. "Hear me out!" Pausing, she looked around at the people passing by and asked, "Look, can we go somewhere more private?"

"I'm not sure you want me to get you alone right now," Lois growled menacingly under her breath.

Shifting to stand between his wife and his ex-girlfriend, Clark said hurriedly, "Let's go up to the roof." When Lois gave him a grudging nod, he turned, making sure he walked between the two of them the entire time.

When they arrived on the roof a few minutes later, Lois tilted her head towards the cloudless sky and took a deep breath. Clark watched as she walked towards the ledge, and then he asked, "Okay, Lana, we don't have a lot of time. What is this about?"

"I just want to help you guys out," Lana said, ignoring Lois's snort of disbelief. "You mean a lot to me. Both of you do." Lois snorted again.

In the face of Lois's skepticism, Lana pressed, "This story isn't going away, I'm sure you know that."

Lowering his chin, Clark looked gravely at the woman before him and said in a hard voice, "Superman doesn't lie, Lana. Even if I thought this was a good idea – which I don't – I can't stand up in front of everyone and pretend to be married to you."

Scowling, Lana pointed out, "Clark, you're going to have to, and you know it. I don't see any other way out of this, and neither do either of you or you guys would have handled it already. Eventually, either Superman will have to reveal his wife's identity or some reporter somewhere will stumble across your secret identity. Have you seen the papers? At last count, twenty-six women had stepped forward and claimed to be married to Superman. The Metropolis Star has offered a reward – thirty-five thousand dollars – for proof of the identity of the real Mrs. Superman. It gets worse every day, and until this story blows over, you both are in danger."

Clark had seen the reports, though he found himself somewhat surprised that Lana had noted them. Before he could comment, however, Lois said scathingly, "So out of the goodness of your heart, you're willing to publicly pretend to be married to my husband. And even though this will cause reporters to dig into your background, possibly leading them straight to Clark's secret, you think this will keep us safer?"

"I don't think it'll lead to Clark. They'll find out that he and I were high school sweethearts, but…" she sighed and looked away mournfully, "We haven't been close in a long time."

"That's still a hell of a risk you're willing to take!" Lois snapped.

Clark intervened, "Lana, we appreciate what you're offering to do, but you're right. This story does put Lois and I in danger – not just from the threat of exposure but from any enemies of mine who would do anything to get their hands on someone who means so much to Superman. If you announced that you were Superman's wife, that would put you in danger, too."

"I know," Lana said softly. "I thought about that. I figured after a month or so, I could release a statement to the press that the pressure of public exposure has been a strain on our marriage and we've split up. Eventually, the story would go away."

This comment only seemed to make Lois more incensed. "When? When you're dead? The story will never go away, you little idiot!"

"Lois, it's okay," Clark said soothingly, trying to calm her. He had expected her to be upset, but she was quickly getting more worked up than he had anticipated, and it worried him.

"No, it's not okay, Clark!" she cried. "There is absolutely nothing about this that's okay!" Whirling on Lana, she demanded, "What do you think this, some kind of game? A chance to relive the glory days, back when you and Clark were together? This isn't a game, do you get that? Do you realize that Clark's life is in danger? That my life is in danger? That our baby's life is in danger? Everyone who's ever been close to us – Mrs. Kent, Perry, Jimmy – everyone we know is at risk because of this! Do you realize that this story has kept Clark up nights, worrying about what could happen?" Clark startled; Lois had been going to bed so early as of late, he hadn't thought she'd been aware of the long sleepless nights he'd spent staring at the ceiling, holding his wife close as he thought about all he stood to lose.

"He's terrified!" Lois continued. "I'm terrified! If you'd stop thinking about yourself for two minutes and start looking at the bigger picture, you'd be terrified, too!" But instead of thinking of any of that, you come here under a pretext of wanting to help!"

"And why shouldn't I want to help Clark?" Lana demanded. "I loved him once, and even though we're no longer together, I still care about him! He's my best friend, and he needs me! I want to help him in any way I can!"

Lois scoffed, "And you think putting your life in danger is the best way to do that?"

"If that's what it takes!" Lana replied hotly.

Clark decided it was time to end the conversation. "Enough," he said sternly, looking between the two women arguing in front of him. Lois was definitely getting too worked up, and he wanted the conversation to stop for her health, for the baby's health, and for Lana's well-being since there was a risk of Lois's heat vision going off. Crossing his arms over his chest, he straightened and threw them both a level look. Lana look chagrined, but Lois took one look at his face and burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry!" she said through her giggles. "I'm sorry, I really am!" she repeated. "It's just…you're kinda adorable when you go all Supermanly on me!"

Feeling slightly deflated, Clark gave an exasperated sigh. "Great. Villains flee in terror when they see me coming, but my own wife laughs at me!"

"Aw, it's okay honey," she said comfortingly, though the corners of her mouth twitched as she fought to suppress a smile. "I'm sure you look incredibly impressive to anyone who hasn't had to sew buttons back on those shirts you love to rip off."

Clark spluttered. "Oh, like you have!"

"I did once!" she protested.

With a smirk, he pointed out, "Gluing a button on a shirt doesn't count as sewing it back on."

Looking disgruntled, Lois huffed, "It worked, didn't it?"

Clark shook his head in bemusement. "Not really, honey," he replied lovingly and brushed a kiss across her forehead.

When he straightened and caught a glimpse of Lana's face over Lois's shoulder, he saw that she was looking at the two of them, a jealous expression on her face. As soon as she met his eyes, however, her expression cleared and she said softly, "I only wanted to help."

"I know," he said, placing a hand on the small of Lois's back in a comforting gesture. He had no doubt that Lana did, in her own way, want to help.

On a shaky breath, she confessed, "It's just…it's hard. I mean, you're everywhere, you know? Everywhere I go, there's a news article about you or something. And it's hard, to know you and not be able to say anything. I guess I never really thought of how hard it would be, to keep this kind of secret. It wasn't so bad before, but ever since the photo of the ring was published…everyone's wondered who could be special enough to be loved by Superman. I guess I just thought…well, you did love me, once."

Clark sighed again. "I did. Once," he agreed, feeling a tinge of guilt for never having considered how this situation was affecting Lana. He'd considered Lois, his mom, and even other superheroes whose private lives stood to be at risk, if Superman's real identity was exposed. But he hadn't thought once about Lana. It would be hard for her, to never be able to admit that she knew him, let alone that she'd loved him. After all, she was in a unique position, different even from Lois. Lois and Superman could enjoy a certain level of familiarity; the whole world knew that Lois Lane had been the one to break the first story about Metropolis's resident superhero. She'd discovered him, interviewed him on several occasions, and even befriended him, in a way, as Superman. Lana, on the other hand, had no such privilege, and thus could not publicly betray any particular familiarity with him.

Lana looked down at the ground, and when she looked back up at him, her eyes were filled with tears. "I should probably leave you alone. Just…if you need anything, please let me know. I really did just want to help out." Turning, she walked to the door and then paused. Glancing over her shoulder, she said with a tremulous smile, "Lois, about what I said earlier, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound like it did. I-I just want to say congratulations to you both on the baby. I know it's the family you've always wanted, Clark, and I'm happy for you."

"I've had the family I always wanted from the day I married Lois," he said gravely. "But thank you."

When Lana had gone, Lois turned to face him. Looking sheepish, she said, "I guess we should probably head back down or Perry'll have a stroke. But I'm sorry I lost my temper earlier. I don't suppose I could blame the pregnancy, could I?"

"Because you're normally so even-tempered?" he teased. Then, in a more serious tone, he said, "It's okay, Lois. I know this whole situation's been hard on you."

"Not as hard as it's been on you, and I don't want you to think that I've forgotten that. I know you're doing the best you can, even if I do get cranky sometimes." Resting her palms on his chest, she dragged them up to his shoulders and then linked her hands behind his neck, leaning into him. "I guess I'm just a grouchy pregnant lady, jealous of all those people who want to claim a part of you when I want you all to myself."

Clark bent his head to press his lips to hers, and when he felt her smile against his mouth, he stole a kiss from her lips. "You know," he murmured suggestively against her mouth, "We could probably fake a natural disaster and play hooky for the rest of the day. I want to know a little more about what you have in mind when you say you want to have me all to yourself."

"Oh, no you don't!" Lois cried with a laugh as she broke out of his arms. "We don't have time for that!"

"Aw, come on! I can be fast!" he pleaded in a halfway-joking fashion.

"What a way to sweep a girl off her feet!" she teased with a roll of her eyes. "That's not exactly an admirable trait in this context!"

With a naughty grin, he retorted, "I take my time when it counts. Want me to show you?"

She shrieked playfully when he moved towards her. "Smallville! Behave yourself! We have a meeting to get to, and unless you want to _still _be in Perry's doghouse when our little Clarkie is born, we should get going!"

"Clarkie?" he asked with a raised brow. At her smug smile, he reminded her, "You wanted to name the dog Clarkie."

"That was just for the fun of annoying you. The name's kinda grown on me by now. Anyway, I hope we have a baby boy as handsome as his daddy," she admitted with a soft smile.

"Oh really? I want a little girl as pretty as her mother," he replied, and at his words, Lois stepped back into his arms and tilted her head back for a kiss. When the kiss broke off, Clark's gaze was hot as he warned her," Keep that up, and we really will have to fake an emergency so we can sneak out of here."

"Huh-uh," she said, backing towards the door. "Not so fast. We have a meeting, remember? Besides, aren't you supposed to be a model of self restraint?"

Groaning in the face of her obvious amusement at his expense, he shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head. "Not when it comes to you." With another muffled moan, he nodded towards the door. "You should head down. I'll be there in a minute. I…need a moment to cool off," he said ruefully.

"I'll do what I can to keep the dogs at bay," she teased and then, after blowing him a kiss, she turned and jogged through the door.

Gazing up at the sky, Clark sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm down. He knew if he attended the meeting in his current condition, he would undoubtedly scandalize his coworkers. He was just releasing his breath when the phone in his pocket rang. Lois's name was on the caller id, so he joked, "Don't tell me Perry's got you cowed already? Whatever happened to my Mad Dog Lane?"

His smile fell when he heard the tremulousness of her voice. "Um…Clark? I need your help. Can you come get me?" she asked.

"Come get you?" he repeated in confusion. "Where are you?" Automatically, he listened for her heartbeat, and his worry grew when he couldn't locate it in the building below.

"I – uh – I don't know." She sounded scared, and so Clark closed his eyes and listened to the surrounding area, gradually concentrating further and further away as he searched for the sound of the heartbeat he knew so well. "Are there any landmarks nearby, anything to help me find you?"

"No, not really," she said anxiously. Her anxiety grew as she continued, "I'm in a field, and I – oh, crap. I think I just set it on fire! Clark!"

He honed in on her heartbeat, which was racing in alarm. He could also hear the quickness of her breath, indicating her fear. "It's okay, Lois. I'm on my way."

Without a second thought, he rose into the air and shot across the sky, speeding towards his wife. When he arrived at her side, he found her on her knees, slapping at some smoldering stalks of corn in front of her. Clark landed on the ground, and at the sound, Lois looked up with a disgruntled scowl on her face. "Okay, honey. I think I've decided that it sucks to be you sometimes." She took his hand and rose to her feet.

He was too concerned to joke with her. "What happened?" he asked. Glancing down, he noticed the new wear patterns on her shoes. "Super speed?"

She nodded. "I was jogging down the stairs to get to the meeting, and all of a sudden, it was like I took off. By the time I managed to stop, I was…here. Where am I?"

Feeling that she would only be more rattled by the truth at the moment, he asked, "You really want to know?"

"Am I at least still in Kansas?" she asked in a small voice. He shook his head in reply. "Oh, boy," she breathed.

"It's okay. We'll practice after work. It takes a little getting used to, but once you get the hang of it, you'll probably get the most use out of this particular ability." Scooping her into his arms, he took off, heading back to the Planet.

"Well, I – wait a minute!" she said abruptly, throwing him a suspicious glare. "What exactly are you implying?"

"Nothing!" he said lightly, fighting back his teasing grin. "I would certainly never imply that my lovely wife occasionally likes to oversleep."

She snorted. "Jerk."

They landed on the Planet's roof, and Clark walked her to the door. As he pulled it open, she gasped and grabbed his arm. "Wait!" she blurted. "Clark, just when I started to run really fast, Jimmy was on the stairs! I passed him when I was going down!"

"Did he see you?" he asked, a frown creasing his brow.

"I don't know," she answered, biting her lip worriedly.

Clark let the door swing closed as he listened closely once again. Even if Jimmy had seen Lois, there was no guarantee he would say anything about it, but just in case, Clark wanted to be as prepared as possible before going downstairs.

_"-been thinking," he heard Jimmy say somewhere below._

_"Yes?" Perry's voice was terse in response._

_"Um, you know how Lois and Superman were…were close. I mean, sh-she was the one who discovered him and everything," he stammered. "Well, everyone seems to want to know who Superman is…um…is married to, and I thought…I mean, I wondered if maybe…that there was a chance…if you ever thought that maybe Lois…"_

_Clark found himself unconsciously reaching for his wife's hand, squeezing it tight when he heard Perry grunt in reply. "Is there something you're getting at, Jimmy?" he demanded._

_Jimmy sighed. "No. No, I-I guess not." Clearing his throat, he said dejectedly, "Um…I guess I should get back to work, then."_

"Well?" Lois asked expectantly, staring at him in concern as he turned back to look at him.

He couldn't say anything to comfort her. "We'll deal with it. Try not to worry about it." Of course, he knew she would anyway.

Feeling the weight of his fears on his shoulders, Clark followed his wife down the stairs to the bullpen. When they walked into the conference room, Perry looked at his watch and threw them an exasperated look. "Sorry we're late, Chief," Lois said automatically, before he could say anything. "We had…uh…"

Clark looked toward Jimmy and saw him staring at Lois. There was a mixture of confusion and excitement on his face. Thinking quickly, Clark cut in, "Superman. He wanted to talk to us about something important, so he came by and picked us up." Jimmy's expression fell, to be replaced by a rueful look, and Clark stifled a sigh of relief.

"Oh?" Perry asked, bringing Clark's attention back to his boss. "Is there a story there?"

"Not rea-" Lois began, but Clark cut her off.

"Absolutely," he said firmly. "He wanted us to call a press conference for next week so he can publicly address the questions about his personal life." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lois's jaw drop as she stared at him in disbelief and outrage, and he forced himself not to turn to her. Instead, he kept his gaze locked on Perry, who leaned back in his chair and stared thoughtfully at the couple before him.

"Really?" he asked over the whispers that had erupted at Clark's announcement.

Clark saw Lois press her lips together angrily as he replied, "Really."

"All right," Perry said with a decisive nod. "Banks, Hoffman, I want you two to cover the press conference."

"Chief!" Lois cried, turning to him in outrage. She had apparently reached her limit.

"That's final, Lois," Perry said curtly. Barking out a few more orders, he rose to his feet, signaling an end to the meeting.

Lois didn't seem to notice that he had no interest in discussing the subject. Instead, as Perry headed back towards his office, she stormed after him, arguing with him as she went. Clark followed in silence. He knew – and he was sure that Lois knew, as well – that Perry would get his way, in the end, but it never stopped her from arguing a point. And right now, he knew that she was trying to do some damage control in the wake of the announcement he'd made.

As she stormed into Perry's office, she tried to slam the door behind her, but it bounced off of Clark's toe. He caught it before it could swing open to slam hard against the wall, and he closed it silently behind him. Lois didn't seem to notice his presence as she yelled, "You can't be serious about giving this story to the two of them! They're rookies! You need your best reporters on the story, and that's Clark and me!"

"It's a press conference, Lois," Perry said calmly. "They can handle it."

She placed her hands on her hips and glowered at him. "It's a huge story, Chief, and you know it! Every newspaper that can get a reporter on a plane is going to have someone at the conference, and that means…"

"And that means," Perry cut in, "that every newspaper in the world is going to be printing the exact same story about whatever it is that Superman has to say. What I need the two of you to work on is the story that everyone _won't_ be getting. I want you two to get in touch with Superman after the conference. See if he'd be willing to give you a follow-up interview."

Clark stepped next to Lois as she tried one last time, "But why can't we…?"

Perry's voice was implacable as he answered her brusquely, "Like you said, every news outlet in the world is going to have a reporter at that press conference if there's any way they can manage it. Everyone's going to wonder what Superman has to say, and they'll be watching any woman there who has any personal ties to him, wondering if she'll be revealed to be his wife. You wouldn't be reporting the story, Lois, you'd become the story. And I'm not in the habit of putting my reporters in such a position. Besides, I think everyone in this room knows how hard it would be for you to keep your temper; do you guys want to take the chance on what would happen if you lost your cool in the middle of a room full of reporters?" Lois and Clark went still as they stared at Perry in thoughtful silence.

Clark had wondered, ever since that night on the rooftop, just what Perry knew about him, but he'd never had the courage to ask. Neither had Lois, though he knew that the uncertainty had be killing her – one of the things that made her such a great reporter was that she always wanted to _know _everything. Apparently, she could wonder no longer, because she asked, "Perry, is there anything…?" She didn't finish the question, and Clark couldn't blame her. Perry meant the world to them both, but that didn't mean that either of the Kents were ready to have their fears confirmed. But Lois wasn't one to give up so easily and so, swallowing heavily, she tried again. "About this story, I was just wondering if there was…well, if you knew who it was…S-Superman's wife, I mean…if you knew who it was and it was someone you knew…if you'd…."

Glancing up from his papers, Perry stared steadily at them both. As he set the papers in his hand aside, he slowly sat back in his chair and regarded his two star reporters gravely. "Would I print the story, you mean?" Clark nodded, and, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lois do the same. "Absolutely. I don't think I'd have any other choice. It's news. As I told Superman once, I don't get to pick what's newsworthy. If it's news, it's news."

Clark clenched his jaw unconsciously, while Lois breathed a soft, "Oh."

Tapping his fingertips on the arms of his chair, Perry said, "Of course, that's only if I _knew _who Superman's wife was and if I had proof. I've told you both before, we don't print suspicions here at the Planet – particularly not for big stories. We print facts. So if I only suspected, or even if I knew and I couldn't prove it, well…I wouldn't be able to print it. My job would be on the line if I was wrong, and the Planet means too much to me to take that risk. I couldn't ask one of my reporters to print it either, though of course if I _knew _that they knew, I'd have to tell them to get proof so they could print the story or their job would naturally be on the line."

"I understand," she replied evenly.

"So if you want to know the truth," he continued, "I'm glad that I don't _know _who Superman's married to. I can't imagine what the two of them are going through right now. Of course, I think the world of him, so if I could help them, I'd want to do so. But since I can't think of anything I could do to help, I'll simply feel grateful that I don't _know _anything that would put him in an untenable position. If there's anything else I could do, I'm sure he'd let me know, and we would deal with what I _knew _– or didn't know – at that time." Grabbing the papers off his desk, he returned his attention to them. "Does that answer your question?"

Though Lois had asked the question, Clark nodded. Whatever Perry knew about Superman, he clearly suspected his involvement with Lois. There was even a chance he suspected that Lois had started to develop superpowers. And, in his own way, Perry had tried to convey the message that they could consider him a friend – not that Clark had ever doubted the truth of that, and he doubted Lois ever had, either. "Well, we should probably go," Clark said, unable to completely suppress the grateful edge to his words. "We'll see what we can do about that interview."

"See that you do," Perry said gruffly in dismissal.

Though Clark knew that Lois was angry that he'd announced the press conference without running it by her first – or even giving her a polite warning that he was thinking of doing such a thing – and though he knew that the thought of it looming in the following week was preying on her mind, the prospect of an imminent press conference to break the Superman's Bride story caused such a commotion at the Planet that the Kent couple didn't get another chance to talk privately until the end of the day. Clark expected Lois to bring the subject up when he escorted her to the elevator, but she didn't say a word. Neither did she so much as open her mouth on the entire walk home – an event that was almost unheard of in the entire time that he had known her.

As he stood in the kitchen and watched her idly stir the pot of stew that Martha had sent back to Metropolis with them, he found he could ignore the elephant in the room no longer. "Lois, about what happened today…I'm sure you're mad at the fact that I didn't tell you that I was going to call a press conference, but I –"

"You thought maybe Jimmy had seen me speeding away, and you did what you always did. You raced in to save the day in the best – or maybe the only – way you knew how at the moment," she finished for him, her voice deceptively light. "I get it."

"But you're still angry," he added on her comment. His statement had nothing to do with her tone and everything to do with the fact that he knew Lois very, very well and anger had been the reaction he'd anticipated.

"No," she said softly. "I'm not mad."

"You're irate?" he ventured.

A smile twitched at her lips. "Not really," she replied.

His eyes narrowing in confusion, he tried one more time. "You're…still numb, but you know you'll be angry later?"

Putting her spoon aside, she turned down the heat and turned to him. "I was," she said, resting her hip against the side of the stove. "Angry, I mean. Actually, that's not a strong enough word. I was livid…when we at the Planet. And then, on the walk home, I was still mad, thinking about it all. But now…?" She frowned, glancing away from him. "Now I'm just…scared. I'm scared about what's going to happen, and no matter how hard I think about it, I can't find a way out of this."

She had curved a hand protectively against the baby bump that had recently become visible, causing her to wear more baggy clothing at work so that nobody would notice. But with the fabric of her shirt pressed against her skin, Clark could see the swell of her stomach, and he stepped forward to place a hand on top of hers.

"I know," he said ruefully. "I'm scared too. Ever since you got that call, I've awoken every morning, wishing something would happen that would make all of this go away. And every night when I've gone to bed, it's with the knowledge that somewhere out there, there may be someone who's gotten one step closer to the truth. To you.

"I don't know what Jimmy thought about whatever he saw today. I don't even know that he did anything more than wonder if there had ever been anything between us. But when he talked to Perry, I heard him as about you and Superman, and…it was just too much. I just can't take this anymore. I can't spend every day terrified of what's going to happen tomorrow, just waiting for that other shoe to drop."

"Okay," she said reasonably, turning in his arms and leaning her weight back against him. "So at this press conference, what are we going to tell people?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly.

"We only have a week," she pointed out, as if he could have forgotten. "That's not much time to decide what to do and then prepare for the fallout."

Squeezing her tighter against him, he rasped, "A week, a year, or an eternity – there could never be enough time for me to prepare for you or our child being in danger."

"I know," she murmured, grabbing the hand he still rested against her belly and lifting it to her mouth to brush a gentle kiss across his knuckles. Stepping out of his arms, she kept her back to him as she ran a fingernail idly across the top of the stove. "The thing is, as much as I hate to admit it…Lana was right. If there were a way we could tell the truth about who you're married to without putting me in danger, we would have found it by now. Has a moment passed since we got that call from Perry that you haven't been trying to find a way out of this? Because I haven't been able to get it out of my mind for so much as a second, and I'm no closer to a way out of this than I was a month ago."

Turning to him, she lifted her chin and said, "There's no way out of this, Clark. You're going to have to lie. We're going to have to pretend like you're married to somebody else. And I think you know that."

He wished he could protest, but the problem was that she was right. For a month, he'd been trying to find a way to deal with the situation without lying about it, and he hadn't been able to find a way to do it that wouldn't put Lois in even more danger. She must have seen the truth of it on his face, because she ducked her head and brushed past him without meeting his eyes. As she walked into the living room and took a seat on the couch, he followed.

Once he'd seated himself next to her, she said matter-of-factly, "Well, whether or not we're prepared for it, it's not going away, and I suppose it's better we deal with it sooner rather than later. So, I guess it's time to decide once and for all. Who can we ask to stand in my place at that press conference in a week, to pretend that she's m-married to you?"

Though she had a stubborn set to her chin and her voice was full of resolve, Clark could see the pain in his wife's eyes as she asked the question, and he hated that he'd had to do this to her. He couldn't bear to see the way this wounded her, but neither of them could afford to continue to pretend that this story was going away. So, looking away from her, he rested his arms on his knees and bowed his head. "I don't know," he said unhappily, staring at the floor.

"I think you and I both know that Diana is the obvious choice," she pointed out. "Most of the world is pretty sure she's the one, at any rate." Even as Clark grimaced, he knew he had to admire his wife's nerve. It was the absolute last conversation that she wanted to have, he was sure of it, and yet she wasn't shying away from what had to be done. It was one of the things he loved the most about her, even though at the moment it meant that there was no way to spare her this torment.

"She is," he agreed, glancing over at her to assess her reaction. Her jaw was clenched, but she was brave and met his eyes unflinchingly.

If it weren't for his super abilities, Clark would have probably missed the quick spasm of pain that crossed her features just before she sucked in a shaky breath and asked, "So, do you think she'll do it?"

He considered the question. As Superman, he and Diana were close. She was well aware of the situation he'd found himself in as of late, and she'd expressed both her sympathy and her support for both him and his wife. But would she be willing to stand up and pretend to be married to him? Leaning against the back of the couch, he tilted his head back. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "Maybe. Probably. I'd – I'd have to ask her, I suppose."

"Okay," she said tersely, jumping to her feet. "Ask her, and if she says no, we'll see if we can come up with someone else."

When she strode quickly out of the room, Clark knew she wasn't angry with him, but he couldn't help but feel guilty. Rising to his feet, he followed, knowing there was nothing he could do to help but wishing he could find a way. "Lois," he began. But as he reached for her, she shied away from his touch.

She glanced up at him, her face contorted in pain, and then turned her head swiftly away from him once more. As she occupied herself by grabbing bowls out of the cabinet and filling them with stew, she demanded, "Don't, Clark. I know this isn't what you want, either. But that doesn't really matter, does it? It's what we have to deal with, and I'm – I'm dealing with it." He knew she was trying to sound calm and confident, but the white-knuckle grip she had around the handle of the pot in her hand, which twisted it completely out of shape, belied her no-nonsense tone. Setting the pot back on the stove, she gave it a rueful look and then sighed. Refusing to meet his eyes, she admitted, "It just…it's hard. Maybe I'm shallow for feeling that way, but I do. It's hard to know that nobody in the world seem to think that I'm good enough to be married to you. Every time I turn around, I'm told that you should be married to a goddess, or at the very least a garden-variety heroine, and I know how shocked everyone would be to know that you come home to plain, boring, _human _Lois at the end of the day."

With a burst of super speed, Clark raced across the room and came to a stop in front of her. Grabbing her forearms in his hands, he waited until she met his eyes and then said forcefully, "First of all, would you listen to yourself? Plain? Boring? _You?_"

"I'm not talking about what you or I think of me, Clark," she spat. "I'm talking about the rest of the world! And to the rest of the world, let's face it: I'm competing with a goddess, and there's no way that I even begin to stack up! She's got a stupid golden lasso and has been given all the blessings of the gods or some such nonsense, and I…I invariably eat the last bear claw in the box, I steal the covers, and I almost never say I'm sorry! Hell, what competition? I'm not even ranked!"

"And I don't care about any of that!" he cried, pulling her almost forcibly against him. He knew that all the recent speculation had been hard on her, but hearing her say all this…it killed him, to hear that she'd even thought it, let alone that she'd believed it even for a moment. If there was no other comfort he could offer her at the moment, he could try to take this particular pain away. Knowing he had never needed to convince her of anything more, he almost gave her a shake as he declared, "I love you. I don't care about lassos or blessings from gods or anything like that! I love that you live life on your terms! I love the games we play, like when we fight to see who's going to get the last donut or the last piece of cherry pie! I fell in love with you when we were doing just that, if you'll recall. I don't care that you steal the blankets because I don't need them anyway! And I don't need to hear you tell me you're sorry because I always know; I can see it on your face. You think you have to change any of that to –"

"I'm not saying I do!" she cut in. Her cheeks were flushed with color, her eyes flashing with passion. She was angry, but Clark didn't know if she was angry with him, or simply with the world. "I like the way I am, and I know you love me, Clark! But that's not the _point_!"

"So what is the point?" he demanded.

"The point is that as much as I don't care what the rest of the world thinks about you, or me, or us, 99% of the time, there are those moments when I can't help it! Heaven knows I can't get away from it! And it sucks, okay? It sucks to think that for a month now, the world has been trying to find the woman you're married to, and as much as the very fact that people are curious puts me in danger, let's face it. I'm not exactly at the top of the suspect list, am I?"

Clark shook his head. "And you're mad about that?"

"No! Yes! No, I – You don't understand!" With a stifled cry, she raised her hands and broke out of his grip. Then she stormed a few feet away from him. When she whirled back around to face him, her breathing was heavy and her eyes were bright, though her voice was surprisingly steady when she murmured, "You have no idea what it's like, Clark," she said. "You have no idea what it's like to…I _know _that you love me. I _know _that I have nothing to worry about from Diana or any other woman on the face of the planet. But I know something else, too. I _know _that if the world did find out about the two of us tomorrow, do you know what the first reaction would be, for the most part? Disbelief. Nobody would believe that a man like you would ever marry a woman like me. And maybe it's crap and none of that matters, but the fact of the matter is, if anyone finds out about us, the entire world's going to think that you settled for me when you could have had a goddess. The number of people who would genuinely believe that I was good enough for you…? Could probably be counted on one hand. God knows nobody would ever wonder what makes you good enough for me!"

"Lois," he said gently. "You have to know that none of that matters! The only thing that matters is you and me, and what we have together. I thought you of all people would realize that what the world thinks isn't –"

"Oh, don't you go throwing that back in my face!" she cried. "Of course I don't care about what the rest of the world thinks! Most of the time. But, come on, you haven't thought about it? If worst comes to worse, what our lives would be like – apart from the increased danger and all that? We'd never be able to go out in public; our every move would be watched. Our careers would be shot to hell, because good luck trying to talk to a confidential informant when you've got a fleet of paparazzi on your tail! And the whole time, as our every move was scrutinized and my every sin was reported in excruciating detail, everyone would be asking themselves the same question: 'Why in the world would Superman marry a woman like her?' To the rest of the world, I could only be someone you'd settled for, a massive step down from the woman you deserved. They'd see the picture, and they'd think you should have ended up with a goddess. Not a…" She shook her head and raised her hand to her face, wiping the back of her hand against her cheeks.

With a sigh that caused her shoulders to sag, she said glumly, "Look, I know this is stupid. I know it doesn't mean anything, really, and all that matters at the end of the day is what you think and what I think. Except that now, after being bludgeoned over the head by all of this speculation every day for over a month now, I've gotta send you off to stand up there next to her. Because she's the wife the rest of the world will believe in, and because the very believability of that story will make it _safer _for me. So you'll be up there with her, pretending to be all in love and…and married. And for my _safety_, I'll be sitting at home, watching you two on the television, wondering if by asking you to do this – or by supporting you when you do it – I'm not somehow telling the world that I believe what they'd say, that I'm not good enough for you, either."

His heart breaking in his chest, he said her name softly once more. He hadn't really thought about the situation from that perspective. He'd spent a good deal of time worrying about the danger the revelation would put her in; he hadn't really stopped to consider what it would do to her. He had known that Lois hated the idea of pretending he was married to someone else, just as he did. But the thought that she wasn't good enough for him had never even crossed his mind, and so he'd never considered that people might wonder about that, let alone that it might be the stance the rest of the world would take on the subject. If he had his whole life to live over, every choice to be reconsidered, he'd still choose Lois over anyone else in the world, goddess or no. Lois may be a normal woman – most of the time, at least – but she was a goddess to him, and that was all that mattered.

He was sure that she knew all of that, but with everything going on, she wasn't able to believe it right now. After everything that had happened recently – including the reward for information on Superman's wife and Lana's offer – he could understand why Lois was feeling a little self-conscious. He only wished there was something he could do about it.

But maybe there was something, though he suspected she wouldn't like the suggestion. "Listen," he said slowly. "Have you ever thought that maybe…maybe we don't need Diana? You have superpowers now. We could make a costume for you, and then maybe you…" he let his voice trail off hopefully.

"Oh, Clark, I do love you," she said, wrapping her arms around her stomach and hugging herself tightly. "And I appreciate what you're trying to do. But you know as well as I do that we can't do that."

"Why not?" he demanded. Now that the idea had occurred to him, he didn't want to let it go. Granted, it would be somewhat dangerous; giving her a superhero alter-ego wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind when they'd realized they would have to handle the current situation. But while it might put her in a bit more danger, it wasn't likely to be much more dangerous for her than it was for him, and he'd been operating with a secret identity for several years, now. Who better to teach her how to do the same than he?  
"You mean other than the fact that it would put me right in the center of the bullseye and that's pretty much the exact place we've been hoping to avoid?" she pointed out.

"I know it's not what we planned, but I think we could do this and keep you safe. I do have practice with this sort of thing, after all, and this way, we wouldn't have to pretend that I'm married to anyone else. It could just be…us. Like it has been from the moment we found each other and like it will be until the day that we die. We can do this," he urged.

Lois's worried expression faded to one of tender warmth. "Oh, Clark, it sounds so tempting, what you suggest. But you're forgetting one little thing: I'm not you. I'm not like you. There's…this." Reaching for him, she placed his hand against the swell of her stomach. "This isn't just about you and me. We have this, and it's not the kind of thing that will be easily hidden with a bit of spandex. I come out in the open with you, people will want to know more about this new superhero that's in town. There will be more pictures taken, and as time passes…well, someone's going to notice.

"And don't forget, I have your powers, but we don't know if I'll keep them throughout the pregnancy. In the first trimester alone, I've managed to make my way to Idaho…"

"More like Nebraska," Clark muttered.

Apparently not having heard him, she continued, "I've lost the ability to drink coffee _completely_, and I've been stranded stark naked at your mom's place because I set all our clothes on fire! I also have a tendency to go from 'wide awake' to 'coma' in no time flat. So even if we completely ignore the fact that I'd be just as liable at the press conference to fall asleep, burst into tears," she shuddered at the thought, "or set the podium on fire…or something entirely unanticipated…as I would to make a dramatic entrance, that still doesn't take care of our problem! Because what happens next month? Will I keep my powers; will I lose them? As the baby grows, will I get even more powerful, beyond even what you've ever dealt with? You told me once that solar flares cause your powers to go out of control; how do we know that the same thing won't happen to me with a surge of…of pregnancy hormones or something?"

"Well, but –" he began, but she clearly wasn't listening as she paced back and forth.

"Or what if I lose my powers completely? What if I do it right there in front of everyone? That would raise a few eyebrows. And even if we do manage to keep the baby secret throughout my pregnancy somehow, what happens after the baby's born? We don't know if I'll keep my powers after, or if they'll go away on their own or anything! And what if they do go away; what do we tell the world when they notice that Superman's wife has suddenly fallen off the face of the earth? We don't even know what will happen after all this, let alone how or if we'll be able to deal with it when it happens! And if we do this, then we'd not only have to find a way to deal with…with whatever happens, we'd have to find a way to do it _with _everyone watching but _without _anyone catching on to what was going on."

Clark stepped into her path and waited for her to look up at him. "Okay, first of all, we'll deal with whatever happens. Somehow, we'll deal with it. And I'm not just saying that to make you feel better; I know it's true. And before you ask, I know it's true because we've always found a way to deal with anything that happens and we always will. The two of us together can handle anything."

Pressing her lips together tightly, she prompted, "And second of all?"

"Second of all," he said, reaching towards her. Though she swayed, as if considering stepping away from him and refusing the comfort of her touch, she stood still and let him put his arms around her waist, "I know that this plan isn't without problems, but I love you. I don't need a goddess by my side; I only need you. And I don't care what the rest of the world has to say or who they think I _should _be with. They don't know you like I do, so if they don't know that you're worth ten Wonder Women, then it's their loss. And, frankly, if people think you're lucky to have me, than the joke's on them, because I wake up every morning thinking of how lucky I am to have you."

Stroking one hand along the small of her spine, he murmured, "I love you, and I think we can do this. I know it's risky, and I know you're scared because I am too. But I think we can do this, and I'm willing to take this chance if you are."

Lois stared into his eyes and then she placed her hands against his chest, over his heart. "You always have hope that things will work out for the best, and I love that about you, I do. And I'm usually the one who rushes into danger without thinking about the consequences, so this is kinda new for me. I can't afford to just race into danger this time; there's too much on the line."

Pushing him away gently, she stepped out of his arms. "Thank you for the suggestion, sweetheart. I appreciate it, I really do. But I can't do that, and I think you know that."

"I don't know that," he protested.

With a sad smile, she shook her head. Straightening her shoulders, she lifted her chin and rasped, "Tomorrow, ask Diana if she'll, um, do this. We'll decide what to do next from there."

"Lois…" he said in protest, but as he reached for her, she turned and walked out of the room. Staring after her, he sighed. Clearly, it still killed her that he had to ask Diana to publicly hold the position that was rightfully hers. Clark didn't blame her for that, since he was no happier at the thought. Still, he didn't have any better ideas so, bowing his head, he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Damn it."


End file.
